


She Who Dreams

by BadWolfGirl01



Series: Dreamverse [2]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005), Torchwood
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bad Wolf, Bad Wolf!Rose, Canon Rewrite, Children of Earth Rewrite, F/M, Non-Canon Relationship, Not Canon Compliant, Romance, Rose is the Dreamer, Season/Series 05, Steven Moffat Era, Time Lady!Rose, also, or rather, original adventure, the Dreamer is Rose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-22
Updated: 2017-01-21
Packaged: 2018-05-24 00:30:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 34
Words: 74,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6135265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BadWolfGirl01/pseuds/BadWolfGirl01
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Rose Tyler had a locket that was a Chameleon Arch? </p><p>After the half-human Doctor dies, Rose opens the locket and becomes the Dreamer, daughter of Rassilon and the Doctor's first love. She unlocks Bad Wolf and uses it to travel to her original universe... where she discovers that the Master has taken over the Earth and opened a gateway to Gallifrey. The Dreamer helps save the day and is there when the Doctor regenerates. </p><p>Season 5 rewrite as well as Children of Earth.</p><p>Anarchitect and myself are rewriting this fic and will be reposting it--please view that one!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Not Just a Locket (Edited)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've begun, in concert with thevoiceoflightcity, to edit/rewrite this fic. Edited chapters will be marked as such.

“Doctor, look at this.” 

The being sometimes known as the Doctor, legal name John Smith-now-Tyler, half-human clone of the last Time Lord, comes awake with a start. His Rose is sitting upright in bed, fingering something on a long golden chain, knees curled close to her chest. 

Messy blonde hair streaked with silver drapes over bare shoulders as she stares at the thing in her hands; he drags himself half-upright, suddenly concerned. “Yes, love?” 

She doesn’t look at him, hiding behind a curtain of hair; holds out the thing on the chain instead. “ _ Look. _ ” 

He blinks at the indistinct object for a moment, and then his gaze slides back to the delicate dusky lines of his wife. It’s dark, but his eyes are still mostly Time Lord, and besides he can always see her. “Rose, are you alright?” 

She turns toward him, finally; her eyes glint wide in the twilight. “Can’t you see it?” There’s a waver to her voice. “It’s the locket. My locket. I’ve been wearing it since - as long as I can remember.” She makes a funny broken noise. “I don’t think I can remember ever taking it  _ off. _ ” 

“Rose,” he says, and then his hands are in hers, signaling telepathic [comfort] through the skin-on-skin contact. (Not as strong as a real Time Lord, but it’s enough for him--enough for both of them) “Rose, it’s all right. It’s just a dream.” They both have bad dreams sometimes - sometimes she still wakes up in a panic, reaching desperately for the dimension cannon, convinced that she’s still stuck jumping from reality to reality and never being able to rest - looking for him. And he, well, it wasn’t really  _ him,  _ but he still has the War.  She helps him, and he helps her; they make a good team, that way. “You’re safe.”

She makes a wordless frustrated noise, thrusts the object at him again. “No, it’s  _ not  _ a dream, can’t you  _ see  _ it?” 

He frowns. “It’s just a locket.” 

“No it’s not,” she repeats, almost desperate now. “It’s got to be - a, a perception filter, or something.  _ Look  _ at it.  _ Really  _ look.” And she squeezes his hand, sending back a quiet scared [please] through the telepathic channel he keeps open for her. 

He looks. 

He - 

He blinks, and takes a careful breath, the beating of his single heart suddenly loud in his ears in a way it hasn’t been for decades. “Rose…”

“I know,” she says, but her voice is unsure.

The thing she’s holding in her hand - hard to look at still, but getting better, as if the perception filter’s slowly fading - is small and round and made of a heavy golden metal, covered in delicate circular engravings, lines and angles and clockwork-like gears intersecting across the surface. Even to his halfling timesense, it glows with pure artron. 

It’s a fob watch. 

“Is it...?” she asks, her voice shaking just a little, as he takes it out of her hand, handling it carefully.

“Yeah,” he says, slowly. “A chameleon arch. You remember I told you about the Family of Blood - with Martha?” 

“Of course  I do,” she responds, hand still holding tight to his. “There’s a - a Time Lord in there. All the memories. All the regenerations.” She swallows. 

“A Time Lady,” he corrects softly, and looks up at his Rose, eyes unreadable. “And it’s yours.” 

“I’m a Time Lady,” Rose says, after a moment. She giggles, a little deliriously. “Right. Okay.” She takes a shaky breath. “And if I open the watch. I’ll remember?” 

The Doctor nods. “You - you’ll be the person you were then again. You’ll remember Rose, but you won’t be her.” Something flickers in his eyes, for a moment. “Not really. If you open the watch.” 

She looks up suddenly, eyes urgent. “Did you know? When you - the other you - found me? Did you know I was from Gallifrey, too?”

He shakes his head, and then he shakes it again, an edge of joy creeping around the shock. “No,” he says, delighted, and then there’s a smile on his face. “No - I didn’t know - but you survived, Rose, somebody else made it past the Moment - you made it.” There’s something like relief there, too; the weight of a thousand thousand lives lifted by just a little bit. He pulls her close, radiating [happiness] through their linked hands “Somebody else survived. I’m not alone.” 

“You never were alone,” she whispers, then pauses. “Do I - “ she starts, and chokes, and he freezes - pulling back. “Do I do it now?” 

He hesitates for a single moment, and then he shakes his head, voice soft. “Not if you don’t want to, love.” 

“But if I’m a Time Lord--Lady--too,” she says shakily, the words spilling out fast and jerky. “Shouldn’t I - if you - “ 

“Rose,” the Docotr interjects, firmly, grinning that same old idiot’s grin. “I’d love you if you were a human or a Time Lady or a - giant squid, alright? If you want to, and not sooner.”

“But,” she tries, and now there really is fear there. “You said - Professor Yana was good, too - what if I’m one of the bad ones?” 

The Doctor laughs, softly, happily. “Oh, no. I can read the inscription, Rose. And you’re not.” He whispers it, rocking her back and forth. “You are very, very good.”

[=|=]

She’s not crying. 

She’s not screaming. 

She’s not bleeding. 

That’s the worst part, of course. 

Rose Marion Tyler rocks back and forth on the same bed in the same room but alone, and the sheets don’t even smell like him. She tried. He always said that Time Lords have no scent, but it wasn’t true, or not really; there’s that faint hint of sparks, something like electricity and dust and sunset, that peculiar taste that was only  _ him.  _ And it’s gone. 

It was a Torchwood mission. Predictably. Of course. He threw himself into a conflict with three different alien species, always at the center of everything, somehow holding everybody frozen with sheer force of will - oh, there were other agents, but  _ nobody  _ could ever do that, that magic he does with words and symbols and empty hands. He spins through the room, talking so fast your brain can barely keep up, thinking even faster. He finds a way to save everybody. He walks the line, a tightrope so high and yet he dances so easy, running circles around every other mind in the room. He was immortal - maybe not literally, not anymore, but everyone believed it anyway. 

You can’t kill a legend; you can’t kill a force of nature; you can’t kill a trail of artron sparks. You can’t kill the Doctor. The Doctor never dies. 

And then when all three species stood down, when this universe’s Shadow Proclamation had been called, the refugees waiting on their towering miles-long island ships parked in the Pacific, UNIT negotiating. When all three leaders laid their weapons down. When everything was going to be alright, as always. 

The Doctor grinned, still standing on that pedestal-like engine tower in the middle of the ship’s cargo hold - and then said “In that case, I think I’m going to - “ 

He never finished the sentence; he blacked out instead, and would have fallen the fifty feet to the cargo floor if she hadn’t caught him. And that’s when everybody figure out that at some point during the whole adventure he’d been stabbed in the side with a two-inch wide sword, and never bothered to mention it. 

“I’m dying,” he told her, in the hospital bed. She was still crying then. She could still cry then. But he was smiling, and he looked so exactly the same - he’d aged a little, more than the Time Lord Doctor ever had, a few grey hairs around the edge - that it  _ hurt.  _ They were going to live forever, together, and die in each other’s arms. 

“No you’re not,” she tried to say, but couldn’t; choking on the words. He knew it anyway. 

“I am,” he said. That was all he said. “Rose - “ 

“D - d - “ and then she gave up, squeezed his hand tighter instead. [i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you i love]

“Rose,” he whispered, still smiling, and then he coughs (the doctors say he’s punctured a lung and it’s too close to that one heart and even surgery might not help the doctors say his systems are too alien and too unstable, a barely-functional patchwork being made of two races that couldn’t be more different no matter how similar they look, the doctors say they’ll try but they don’t know). [rose, your locket.]

She tried to respond, but all that came out was a tangle of raw emotion; she can’t quite manage sentences, even after all these years of practice.

[when i’m gone - he needs you.]

[who?] and [i love you] and [don’t go]

[the doctor,] he said, and coughed again. [the…. real one. he needs you. he needs… to know he’s not alone]

“ _ You’re  _ the real Doctor,” she snapped, and it came out harsher than she meant but she doesn’t have time to care. “I won’t leave you. I won’t  _ ever  _ leave you. ” She took a desperate breath. “I’ll save you there must be some way I  _ will  _ save you - “ 

He couldn’t laugh, not really, but the bubble of simple joyful [amusement] stopped her anyway. [Oh, Rose, my Rose.] He blinked, once, eyes unfocusing. [You already  _ did. _ ] A faint, curve of a smile. [So many times.]

His eyes slipped shut; the last thing she got was one signal so strong it shorted her mind out for a moment - vision gone, grief gone, nothing but an endless timeless space made of pure [love.]

They wheeled him into surgery. He never woke up again.

And now she’s sitting here, wondering what being a Time Lord - Lady - is like. Do immortals have to feel? Will she care about the Doctor? Does she want to care about the Doctor?

He’s still out there, though, isn’t he? 

If she’s a Time Lady, can she find him? 

All she wants is to hear him say ‘Run,’ again.

He won’t replace  _ her  _ Doctor - nothing could ever do that - but if he needs her. If he still wants her. There’s nothing for her left here - Mum and Dad are both gone, Tony’s married the cute superspy from UNIT, his name’s Viktor or something, and they’re living on the other side of the world, she doesn’t know anybody else from this universe, not well. 

She clutches the watch close to her chest, staring at the almost-hypnotic under-the-skin-of-the-universe golden glow of it, wondering what dying feels like. 

Rose Marian Tyler screams, and throws the locket at the wall hard. 

_ No. NO _ . Take a breath; imagine his hands in hers.  _ It’s going to be okay.  _ It isn’t dying; it’s just being someone else, someone who doesn’t hurt like this. It’s okay to grieve, it’s okay to be scared, but the other Doctor needs her, somewhere. 

She rocks back and forth for a little longer, and maybe she finally starts to cry. 

And then she goes to pick it up. 

She writes three notes before she goes. One of them’s for the Torchwood operatives, so they know where she’s gone, in case the new her doesn’t feel like sticking around. One of them’s for herself, after she’s changed, to make sure that the new her remembers. And one of them’s for the Doctor, from the  _ human  _ her, so that even if it is like dying she can say goodbye. 

She puts the first note on her bed and shoves it against the wall, making space - she’s not sure how this works and she doesn’t want to accidentally incinerate anything if this is like the Doctor’s regenerations. She considers the second notes for a moment, and then she pins it to the wall in front of her, so it’ll be the first thing she sees either way. The third note she puts in the pocket of her Torchwood leather jacket, and hopes for the best.

She stands straight. She holds her head high. She takes one last long slow breath. 

The watch clicks open. 

And then there is  _ light. _


	2. The Wolf Awakens

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm working on the rewrite of this chapter right now--please ignore all author's notes in the actual work text themselves, as they're just extremely insecure me of a year ago talking.

**A/N: The plot thickens! This chapter will probably be a bit short, too, but once I start writing actual episodes the chapters will get longer. Also, I haven’t watched Classic Who so I have no idea if my take on Rassilon and Gallifrey is right or not, but this is my universe so ha! Author Victorious, here.**

Chapter 2: The Wolf Awakens

_“The Time War is going poorly, my daughter. There is an ever-greater probability that Gallifrey will burn. You, Arkytior, must survive. The Dreamer, she who dreams, do your dreams ever concern themselves with ruling the Time Lords?” Rassilon paced around the console room of his TARDIS. “Arkytior, there is a plan. I will pull you back from the fighting. We will go to the Sisterhood of Karn and you will regenerate. You will use the Chameleon Arch and become human. You will be placed in a family on Earth. The perception filter on the Chameleon Arch device will wear off after a certain number of years, so that if the Time Lords cannot find you, you will be able to regain your identity. Does this sound acceptable?”_

_Arkytior watched her father with dusky violet eyes. No matter what she thought, his plan would be the one that was implemented. The Dreamer would become human, regardless of the fact that, had she been given a choice, Arkytior would have joined her old friend Theta Sigma in his TARDIS. Rassilon would never accept that, however. When Theta had asked Rassilon if he could bond with his daughter, Rassilon had forbidden the two to see each other. A wave of sorrow for lost… love overwhelmed Arkytior suddenly. “It is acceptable,” she answered softly, hiding her face behind her long black hair._

_“Then let us begin.”_

_XXX_

_Shorter, hazel eyes, brown hair. Could’ve been worse, Arkytior knew. She also knew that she preferred her first form more. Not that it mattered, of course._

_“We have found a family, and fake memories have been planted in the mother’s mind. Her name is Jacqueline Tyler. Her husband died several years ago. Now, the closest English translation of Arkytior is Rose, so that is what your human name will be. Rose Tyler, aged fourteen, as far as anyone knows has always been living in the Powell Estate. Now, Dreamer, this locket will contain your memories. I have set the timer on the perception filter to fifty-seven Earth years. Right around that time you will need to regenerate, as the human body will be growing elderly. Goodbye, Dreamer. I hope to see you when you return to us.”_

XXX

The Dreamer gasped as her memories slotted into place. Oh, no wonder she had loved the Doctor so deeply as a human. It was an instinct. The Dreamer frowned, taking a quick look at her body. While purely Time Lord, now, it was still aged. Ah, well, it was only her second incarnation. She had plenty of regenerations to spare. As the golden energy surrounded her, the Dreamer smiled. It was good to be back.

When the regeneration energy died down, the Dreamer hurried to the mirror to examine this new body.

“Ooh, ginger. Would you look at that. Only took me two tries, Theta. You’ve used, what, nine regenerations and you still haven’t managed it? Oh, I sound Celtic. Lovely!” the Dreamer exclaimed in a musical, lilting voice. It would be fun to speak Gallifreyan with this accent. She looked closer. Her eyes were emerald green, and she was a bit taller, and much more graceful. “Excellent,” the Dreamer enthused.

Now, about that matter of the Bad Wolf. The Dreamer knew that she could safely access that power now. Her original universe would need the Goddess of Time and the Doctor’s protector. The Dreamer began to search her mind, looking for where the Bad Wolf resided. At the very back of her mind, she found a TARDIS blue wall. Behind the wall was a swirling golden glow, much like regeneration energy. The Dreamer placed her hand on the wall and it dissolved, although she could feel it waiting to return when she banished the power. Throwing her head back, the Dreamer allowed the Vortex to rush through her. When she glanced at the mirror, she saw her eyes were completely gold.

“Looks like I found my ride,” the Dreamer said, her voice reverberating strangely. It was layered, doubled, as though there were multiple people speaking through her. Interesting. But no, she was not the Dreamer, she was the Wolf. No, she was the Dreamer. “I am the Dreaming Wolf. I have been awakened. I shall sleep when I have performed what is necessary, but I will awaken when need is strong.”

Now where had that come from? The Dreamer shook her head to clear it and focused on the power rushing through her. It was linked to the Time Vortex of her original universe, and she could feel it pulling her. Relinquishing her hold on Pete’s World, the Dreamer allowed the power to do what it wished. She was surrounded by golden light, as her surroundings faded away, only to be replaced by a large room. The Dreamer looked around her, confused. There was the Doctor, standing in the middle of the space, holding a revolver that was currently pointed at a blonde Time Lord. His mental signature identified him as Koschei, the Master. Behind him was a pedestal of some sort with a diamond on it. A Whitepoint Star, the Dreamer realized with mounting horror.

On the other side of the Doctor there stood a handful of Time Lords in a gate. The Dreamer gaped when she recognized the Doctor’s mother as one of them. And, of course, the one in front was her father, Rassilon. Wonderful. “Well, looks like I just crashed one hell of a party,” the Dreamer commented drily, noticing how all the Time Lords were staring at her.

“What?” the Doctor exclaimed, confused.

“Ah, Arkytior, wonderful to see you again, my child,” Rassilon said smoothly, a rather obviously fake smile imposed on his face.

“Dreamer,” the Master leered. “I like the new look,” he said, his eyes traveling up and down her body appreciatively.

“What?” the Doctor said again. “What? WHAT?”

**What’s going to happen next? The Doctor seems to be the most confused of the lot, right now. I hope you enjoy. Like last time, reviewers will receive a cookie.  
**


	3. The End of Time

**A/N: Now, this is the last chapter before I start writing episodes, I promise (although I may or may not throw out a couple episodes that I don’t like, no promises there). Should be a bit longer, but still not as long as further chapters will hopefully be. Time between posts is subject to change without notice. Alright, enough of me, time to get to our story!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Except the Dreamer.**

Chapter 3: The End of Time

“Don’t let me stop you,” the Dreamer said to the stunned Time Lords. “Go on, back to whatever it was you were doing.” The Doctor stared at her like she was mad. Maybe she was. “Well? Come on, now, big exciting confrontation? Big white gate-y thingy? A Whitepoint Star and a madman? Ooh, I sound like you now, Theta. That’s weird. I’ve got a gob! Ooh, by the way, yes, it’s me, Arkytior. Hello! Now, carry on.”

“…Right,” the Doctor said dazedly.

“But this is fantastic, isn’t it? The Time Lords restored,” the Master commented uncertainly, staring at the Doctor.

“You weren’t there in the final days of the War,” the Doctor responded harshly. “You never saw what was born. But if the Timelock’s broken, then everything’s coming through. Not just the Daleks, but the Skaro Degradations, the Horde of Travesties, the Nightmare Child, the Could’ve-been King with his army of Meanwhiles and Neverweres. The War turned into Hell. And that’s what you’ve opened, right above the Earth. Hell is descending.”

“My kind of world,” the Master answered flippantly, but the Dreamer could see a flash of fear in his eyes.

“Just listen! Because even the Time Lords can’t survive that,” the Doctor said, trying to reach his one-time friend.

“We will initiate the Final Sanction. The end of time will come at my hand. The rupture will continue until it rips the Time Vortex apart,” Rassilon interjected.

“That’s suicide!” the Master exclaimed, horrified. “You can’t!”

“We will ascend to become creatures of consciousness alone. Free of these bodies, free of time, of cause and effect, while creation itself ceases to be,” Rassilon continued. The Dreamer was aghast. The fact that the Lord President could be so blind and foolish was a bit overwhelming. As his words sank in, the Dreamer felt the Wolf within her stir. She let it out of its cage.

“No more,” the Wolf announced, her voice echoing throughout the room. “This shall not come to pass. Time is eternal and protected. You foolish Time Lords, thinking you can control the universe.”

“What are you? And who are you to challenge my authority? I am the Lord President of Gallifrey! I am the authority over Time!”

“You are tiny. I am the Bad Wolf, and I am the highest authority. I am the Goddess of Time. I create myself. You have no power over me. This shall not be changed. Gallifrey must burn.” The Wolf turned her golden gaze to the Whitepoint Star. “All things must come to dust. Everything dies. The Time War ends.” With a wave of her hand, the diamond disintegrated into gold dust.

“No! You can’t do this!” Rassilon shouted as he was sent back into the Timelock. “No!”

“Back into Hell, Rassilon!” the Doctor raged. 

The Time Lords were gone. The Wolf turned her attention to the Diseased One. He had hurt her Heart, and her Mate, both. He was utterly mad. And this body was dying. “Be free from the madness, Koschei,” the Wolf said, her eyes flaring bright gold. The Master gasped as the sound faded.

“I’m free…” he whispered faintly. “Thank you…” his voice trailed off and he fell to the ground, dead. A smile was on his face, a true smile, not twisted by his madness.

The Doctor looked around, confused. “I’m alive. There were four–“   
Knock, knock, knock, knock

The Doctor paled when he realized that Wilf had trapped himself in the radiation chamber.

“Look, just leave me. I’m an old man,” Wilf told him sadly.

“Ok, right then, I will. Because you just had to go in there, didn’t you? You had to go and get stuck, oh yes. Because that’s who you are, Wilfred. You were always this. Waiting for me, all this time. Look at you. Not remotely important. But me? I could do SO MUCH MORE!” the Doctor raged, tears on his cheeks. “So much more. But this is what I get. This is my reward… and it’s NOT FAIR! Oh. Oh, I’ve lived too long.”

“No, no, please don’t, Doctor,” Wilf pleaded. The Doctor had made up his mind, however.

“Wilfred Mott, it is my honour. Better be quick. One, two, three,” and the Doctor stepped inside the radiation chamber, letting Donna Noble’s grandfather out. The Dreamer hurried over to Wilf, checking to make sure he was alright.

A moment later, the Doctor slowly uncurled from his ball. “Hi,” he greeted Wilf wanly.

”Hello. Still with us, then?” Wilf asked.

“The system’s dead. He’s absorbed it all. All that radiation; even a Time Lord can only hold so much for a short time,” the Dreamer explained gently. “It’s started, hasn’t it, Theta?”

“Oh, sure, now it opens,” the Doctor grumbled as he stepped outside. “Yes, Arkytior, it has. Now, I’ve got some goodbyes to say before I go, and I would like to know what the bloody hell is going on here, so you, me, TARDIS, now.”

The Dreamer followed him back to where the TARDIS was parked. The wave of glee that the ship sent her caused the Time Lady to laugh aloud. “It’s good to see you again too, Old Girl.”

Once they were inside the ship, the Doctor turned to the Dreamer. “Explain, please?” he asked.

“I’ll give you the short version, since you’re running out of time. I am the Dreamer, Arkytior, daughter of Rassilon. Near the end of the Time War, my father forced me to regenerate and use the Chameleon Arch to become a human. This was done to protect me from the carnage. The name I was given was Rose Tyler, and Rose Tyler traveled with the Doctor and became the Bad Wolf. When the perception filter on the locket, the chameleon device, wore off, I showed it to the Metacrisis Doctor, James Tyler. He helped me understand what it was and told me that I could utilize Bad Wolf once I had a Time Lord mind. When he died, I opened the locket, regenerated, and then ended up here. Not really so difficult. I won’t ask you to tell me what happened to you to make you meddle with a fixed point in time right at this moment, however.”

The Doctor nodded, apparently satisfied for the moment. “I’ve got a couple stops to make, if you’d stay here. I’ll be back soon.”

The Dreamer considered for a moment, then said, “Don’t hold it off for too long. I’m making tea.”

The Dreamer felt the TARDIS land a few times, and once her tea was ready she returned to the console room. She was just in time to hear an Ood say, “We will sing to you, Doctor. The universe will sing you to your sleep. The song may be ending, but the story goes on.”

The Doctor stepped inside the console room, groaning in pain. His hand was already glowing brightly golden. “Arkytior, would you put her in the Vortex, please?”

The Dreamer did as he asked as quickly as she could. She watched as the Doctor was surrounded by golden light. “I don’t want to go,” he whimpered before exploding with the regeneration energy. It was a violent regeneration, destroying a good portion of the console room.

“Legs! I’ve still got legs, good. Arms! Hands. Fingers! Ooh, lots of fingers. Ears, yep. Eyes, both working. Nose? Well, I’ve had worse. Chin. Blimey! Hair? I’ve got hair. Lots of it. Am I ginger?”

The Dreamer smiled fondly at the new Doctor’s rambling. “No, Theta, you’re just sorta… brown,” she said, remembering an exchange from the last time he’d regenerated. The Doctor pouted a bit.

“There’s something else, something very important. What is it?” The TARDIS flashed the mental equivalent of an eye roll into the Dreamer’s mind and she giggled. “You should do that more, it is terribly adorable,” the Doctor told her, grinning. “Oh! I’m, I’m, CRASHING! Wonderful!”

The TARDIS spun out-of-control towards the earth as the Doctor laughed maniacally. “Geronimooooo!”

**Well, the Doctor has gotten some things cleared up. Bye bye, Ten, hello Eleven! Just so y’all know, River Song is not going to be the Doctor’s wife in this fic. I do love her character though, so she will be in there, trust me. Alright, next up is the Eleventh Hour. First episode rewrite. I’m a bit nervous about it, hope it turns out alright.**


	4. The Eleventh Hour--Five Minutes

**A/N: So we have arrived to the start of season 5. New new new Doctor, TARDIS crashing, and our favorite Time Lady right in the middle of it. Now, y’all can start making guesses on how I’m going to incorporate River in, if you’d like, but I’m not going to spoil it for you. All I’ll say is that one badass flirty time traveller deserves to be with another ;). And on to the story!**

**Disclaimer: Ownership still non-existent, except for my lovely Time Lady.**

Chapter 4: The Eleventh Hour–Five Minutes

“Theta, why is the swimming pool in the library?” the Dreamer yelled, exasperated. “Rassilon, you just had to hold it off as long as you could, didn’t you? The poor Old Girl is all destroyed, now!”

“I’m sorry,” the Doctor said meekly from the other side of the library. The library that was, at the moment, currently playing host to the swimming pool. “The books will be ok, I think. If we can just climb out of here…”

A moment later, the Dreamer pulled herself out of the sideways TARDIS, turning back to help the Doctor out. They were greeted by a young ginger girl. “Hello. Are you ok?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just had a long fall, all the way down to the library. Hell of a climb back up,” the Doctor told the little girl.

“You’re soaking wet,” the girl told him, a note of “just how stupid are you?” in her voice. She had a Scottish accent and was really quite cute, the Dreamer thought.

“We were in the swimming pool,” the Doctor answered her, looking slightly affronted at her tone.

“You said you were in the library.”

“So was the swimming pool!” the Doctor cried. The Dreamer chuckled at the look on his face.

“Our ship is very big, sweetheart, and when it fell over, lots of things got moved around. The swimming pool fell into the library. The Doctor is going to fix it immediately, isn’t he?” the Dreamer asked with a pointed look at the Doctor. He pretended not to notice.

“Are you a policeman?” the little girl asked.

“Why?” the Doctor asked curiously. “Did you call a policeman?”

“Did you come about the crack in my wall?”

“What crack–“ the Doctor stopped abruptly as he doubled over in pain. A cloud of gold energy came from his mouth. 

“What’s your name?” the Dreamer asked, deciding to take momentary control of the situation.

“Amelia. Amelia Pond,” the little girl answered.

“Amelia Pond. A fairytale sort of name,” the Doctor decided, having recovered from the momentary pain. “The crack in your wall, Amelia, does it scare you?”

“Yes,” Amelia answered promptly.

“Well then, let’s go check it out. I’m the Doctor. Do everything I tell you, don’t ask stupid questions, and don’t wander off,” the Doctor said as he walked away. He followed his little speech by running smack into a tree. “Ouch. Early days, steering’s a bit off,” he muttered.

The Dreamer laughed. “Oh, don’t worry about him, Amelia. He’ll be alright. I’m the Dreamer. Nice to meet you. Are we in Scotland?”

“No, we moved to England, it’s rubbish,” little Amelia replied. It was clear that moving had not been her idea in the slightest.

Meanwhile, the little group had moved into the kitchen of the house. Amelia made the Doctor all sorts of different snacks before he finally settled on fish fingers and custard. Amelia ate ice cream from the container and the Dreamer munched contentedly on the bacon that the Doctor had refused. 

“Amelia, where’s your mum and dad? We should’ve woken them by now, don’t you think?” the Dreamer asked. Little Amelia looked at her with a frown on her face.

“I don’t have a mum and dad. Just an aunt,” the ginger girl said.

“I don’t even have an aunt,” the Doctor put in.

“Lucky,” Amelia told him. The Doctor grinned at her.

“I know,” he said.

“Well, shouldn’t we have woken your aunt, then?” the Dreamer asked, getting the conversation back on track.

“No, she’s out.”

“She left you here alone?”

“I’m not scared.”

“No, indeed,” this was the Doctor. “You aren’t scared of anything. Box falls out of sky; man and woman fall out of box; man eats fish custard while woman laughs at him; and Amelia isn’t scared. So you know what I think?”

“What?”

“Must be a hell of a scary crack in your wall.”

XXX

“You’ve had some cowboys in here,” the Doctor murmured as he stepped into Amelia’s bedroom and took in the sight of the long, glowing white crack in her wall. “Not actual cowboys, although that can happen.”

“I used to hate apples, so my mum put faces on them,” Amelia said, seemingly randomly. The Dreamer turned to see her holding an apple with a smiling face cut into it. She took it gently.

“She sounds good, your mum. I’ll keep it for later,” the Dreamer said with a soft smile.

“This wall is solid and the crack doesn’t go all the way through it… so where’s the draught coming from?” the Doctor mused.

“Why don’t you scan it, Theta?”

“Oh, yes, right, excellent idea.” The screwdriver buzzed as the Doctor swung it over the crack. “Hmm. Wibbly wobbly timey wimey. You know what the crack is?”

“What?” Amelia asked curiously.

“It’s a crack. I tell you what, though, if you knocked the wall down, the crack would stay put. Because the crack isn’t in your wall.”

“Theta, can you get on with the explanations, please?” the Dreamer asked, slightly amused by this regeneration’s rambling tendencies.

“Right. The crack isn’t in the wall. It’s everywhere, in the skin of the universe. Two pieces of space and time that never should have touched, pressed together right in your wall.” The Doctor emptied out Amelia’s glass of water and placed it against the wall.

“Prisoner Zero has escaped,” echoed from the crack.

“What does that mean?” Amelia asked.

“It means, on the other side of this wall, there’s a prison, and that prison has lost a prisoner. Which means you need a better wall.”

“Can we close the crack, Doctor?” the Dreamer asked. The Doctor snapped his head around to look at her.

“The only way to close a breach is to open it all the way. The forces will invert and it will snap itself shut. Or– “

“Or what?” Amelia asked.

“You know when grownups say everything is going to be alright, but they mean that it really isn’t but they don’t want you to worry? Well, everything is going to be alright.” With that, the Doctor pointed his screwdriver at the crack on the wall. A large eye appeared briefly, and a blue light shot out hitting the Doctor in the leg.

“Was that an Atraxi?” the Dreamer asked, staring incredulously at the spot where the crack had been.

“Yeah. He left me a message on the physic paper. Prisoner Zero has escaped. But why tell us that? Unless he escaped through here. He can’t have. We’d know. It’s different, brand new me, nothing works yet, but there’s something I’m missing, in the corner of my eye.”

At that moment the TARDIS cloister bell went off and the Doctor ran towards his ship, shouting “No!” The Dreamer chased after him, not wanting to be left behind.

“I’ve got to get back in there. The engines are phasing. It’s going to burn!”

“But it’s a box,” Amelia said. “How can a box have engines?”

“It’s not a box, it’s a time machine,” the Dreamer said.

“You’ve got a time machine?”

“Not for much longer if I don’t get her stabilized. A five-minute hop into the future should do it.”

“Can I come?”

“No, it’s not safe. Once I get back, though, yes you can. Five minutes, Amelia. I promise. I’ll be right back.”

“People always say that,” Amelia said sadly.

“Do I look like people? Trust me, I’m the Doctor.”

“We’ll be back, Amelia, I promise. I don’t know if it will be five minutes, since he isn’t very good at driving and he’s just regenerated, but we will be back.”

“Geronimo!” the Doctor shouted as he jumped into the TARDIS. There was a loud splash. “Arkytior, make her stand up again!”

The Dreamer grinned. “Be back soon,” she said as she slipped carefully over the edge of the TARDIS. She manipulated some levers, made much more difficult by the way the lovely ship was oriented, and managed to get her the right way up and into the Vortex.

“So, Theta, what are you missing?” The Doctor looked at her thoughtfully.

“Something in the corner of my eye…” 

“Yes, I gathered that. There’s a perception filter somewhere in that house. But where? I sensed it but I can’t figure it out.”

“Doors. Doors… doors. One, two, three, four, five. Six! Oh, no no no. Come on, we’ve got to get back!”

When the TARDIS materialized, it was daytime. “A little longer than five minutes,” the Dreamer muttered under her breath.

“Amelia! I’ve worked out what it was! What I was missing! You’ve got to get out of there! Prisoner Zero is here, do you hear me? Prisoner Zero is here!” The Doctor sonicked the lock on the garden door and barged inside. A moment later, the Dreamer heard a thud.

“Ouch,” she muttered, wincing in sympathy. Giving it another moment, she followed the Doctor up the stairs. A young woman in a rather risqué police uniform was talking into a hand-held radio. The Doctor was handcuffed to a radiator.

“White male, mid-twenties, caught breaking and entering. I’m requesting backup,” the woman said into her radio.

“Cricket bat. I’m getting cricket bat,” the Doctor grumbled. “Oh, hello Arkytior. Nice of you to join us.”

“You were breaking and entering,” the woman said before turning to glance behind her at the Dreamer. “Are you his accomplice or something?”

“You really expect me to believe you’re a policewoman, dear?” the Dreamer countered. The young woman’s face shifted slightly.

“Well…”

“Where’s Amelia Pond?” the Doctor asked suddenly. “Little Scottish girl, lives here? We promised her five minutes but the engines were phasing. Suppose I must’ve gone a bit far.”

“He promised five minutes. I told her that his driving is terrible and we’d be back eventually but who knows how long it would be,” the Dreamer clarified.

“Amelia Pond hasn’t lived here in a long time,” the woman said.

“No, no, no. How long?” the Doctor cried.

“Six months.”

“It can’t have been six months! I promised five minutes!”

“Doctor, we’ve more important things. You, do you live here?”

“Yes. You got a problem with that?”

“How many rooms are on this floor?”

"Why?"

"Because it will change your life."

“Five. One, two, three, four, five,” the woman said, pointing to each one in turn.

“Six,” the Dreamer finished.

“Look behind you, in the corner of your eye, right where you don’t want to look,” the Doctor instructed.

“But that’s not possible. How is that possible?”

“There’s a perception filter around that door. We sensed it the last time we were here,” the Dreamer told her. “Should’ve seen it, but we didn’t until it was too late.”

“But that’s a whole room. A whole room I’ve never noticed!”

“The perception filter stops you from noticing. And you need to unlock these handcuffs right now, because whatever is in there has been hiding, and it’s still hiding, and there’s a reason it is hiding.”

“I lost the key,” the woman muttered as she walked slowly to the room.

“No, no, don’t go in there! Listen to me!”

The woman ignored him. “Do I just have a face that no one listens to?” the Doctor whined, looking at the Dreamer. She smiled.

“Apparently,” she told him. He pouted.

“My screwdriver, silver thing with a blue light at the end, where is it? Is it in there?”

“There’s nothing here. Your screwdriver is here, though,”

“It must have rolled under the door,” the Doctor said, relieved.

“And then hopped up on the table,” the woman mumbled, just loud enough for the two Time Lords to hear.

“Get out of there!” the Doctor shouted desperately.

“There’s nothing here, but…”

“The corner of your eye,” the Dreamer said softly. “Don’t try and look at it, though, or it will try to kill you. Just step on out, we don’t need that screwdriver. I’ve one of my own,” she said, turning to open the handcuffs. The Doctor gaped at her screwdriver.

“Where’d you get that?” he asked her.

“James made it for me,” she told him. His face cleared and he nodded.

At that moment the woman screamed and ran from the room. “What is it?” she shouted. The Dreamer ignored her for the moment, locking the door. “Will the door hold it?”

“Oh, sure, it’s an interdimensional multiform from outer space. They’re all terrified of wood,” the Doctor snarked.

“Rude,” the Dreamer reprimanded.

“And not ginger,” the Doctor finished, nodding. “Although you most certainly are. I’m jealous. Well, I’m not, Time Lords don’t get jealous. But– “

“Hush,” the Dreamer said with a smile, cutting off his ramble. There was a bright light from inside the room.

“What’s it doing?” the young woman asked.

“I don’t know, getting dressed? You called for backup, you’ll be fine. Just run.”

“There is no backup.”

“But I heard you! You called for backup on that radio thing!”

“It’s a fake radio. I’m not a real policewoman. Your friend figured it out right away.”

“But you’ve got the uniform!”

“I’m a kissogram!” the frustrated woman said, pulling her hat off. Long ginger hair tumbled down, and something clicked in the Dreamer’s mind.

“Oh,” she murmured. “Oh, I’m so sorry.” The woman turned to look at her and their eyes met.

“Would you just run?” the Doctor shouted. The door crashed down and a man stepped out, with a dog.

“Oh, it’s just,”

“No, it’s not. The faces, look at the faces.” At that moment the man barked. He opened his mouth, hissing, and large teeth appeared. “Listen, we’re safe, you know why? Because she called for backup.”

“There is no backup!” the woman yelled, frustrated.

“I know that, that was a clever lie to try and save our lives!” the Doctor shouted as he got to his feet. “Ok, listen, we don’t have backup, so there’s no reason to kill us.” The Dreamer smiled slightly at his backpedaling.

“Alert: the human residence is surrounded. Prisoner Zero will vacate the human residence or the human residence will be incinerated,” a voice echoed.

“There’s backup! One more time. We’re safe, apart from incineration,” the Doctor rambled.

“Shut up and run!” the Dreamer yelled, grabbing the Doctor’s hand and pulling him down the staircase. The young ginger woman followed behind them. They ran to the TARDIS, but when the Doctor tried to unlock the door, he couldn’t.

“No, no not now! She’s locked us out, she’s rebuilding! She won’t open until she’s done!”

“A kissogram?” the Dreamer questioned. The Doctor turned to her, confused.

“Yes,”

“Why are you pretending to be a policewoman?” the Doctor asked.

“You broke into my house! It was either this or a French maid,” the woman said.

“What is a kissogram?” the Dreamer asked curiously.

“I go to parties in costumes and I kiss people! It’s a laugh,” the woman defended, her arms crossed over her chest. Then the Doctor noticed the shed.

“Wait, wait, wait. The shed. I destroyed the shed last time I was here. Smashed it to pieces.” The Dreamer looked sadly at him as he began to connect the dots.

“It’s been rebuilt,” the ginger told him snappishly.

“But it isn’t new, it’s old. At least ten years old. Twelve. I’m not six months late, I’m twelve years late. But you said–you said six months. Why did you say six months?”

“Does it matter? Let’s go! He’s coming!” the woman said a bit desperately. The Dreamer didn’t intervene, letting the Doctor discover what she had already figured out for herself.

“This is important. Why did you say six months?” the Doctor pushed.

“Why did you say five minutes!”

“What?”

**So we come to the end of the first half of the Eleventh Hour. The Doctor’s mind isn’t working too well at the moment, hopefully that will change soon. He’s confused again. This seems to be a regular occurrence. Please review and tell me what you thought!**


	5. The Eleventh Hour--Come Along, Pond

**A/N: So, just so you all know, I’m still looking for a beta for this story. Anyway, confused Doctor seems to be the norm in these first few chapters. Don’t worry, he’ll start figuring things out soon.**

**Disclaimer: Still the same.**

The Eleventh Hour–Come Along, Pond

“You’re Amelia,” the Doctor stated.

“You’re late!” Amy snapped.

“You’re Amelia. You’re the little girl,” the Doctor said again. The Dreamer snorted. 

“I’m Amelia and you’re late,” Amy said, rolling her eyes.

“I’m sorry, Amelia,” the Dreamer said softly. “The first time this one took me to see my mum, back when I started traveling with him, he told me he’d brought me back to twelve hours later. It had been a twelve months. My mum thought my boyfriend had murdered me! But twelve years? That’s a new level of poor driving.”

“Oi!” the Doctor yelped. “You hit me with a cricket bat, Amelia!”

“Twelve years.”

“A cricket bat!”

“Twelve years and four psychiatrists.”

“Four?”

“I kept biting them.”

“Why?”

“They said you weren’t real.”

“Hate to break it up,” the Dreamer started, moving towards an ice cream van, “but…”

“Prisoner Zero will vacate the human residence or the human residence will be incinerated. Repeat.”

“No, no, no, come on. We’re not being staked out by an ice cream van,” Amy said disbelievingly. The Dreamer leaned over to talk to the man inside.

“Why are you playing that?”

“It’s supposed to be Clare De Lune,” the man said, trembling slightly. Catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror on the side of the van, the Dreamer realized that there was a glowing gold ring around the edge of her eyes, although the green irises were still visible. The Wolf was responding to her fear. She pushed it back, but the gold remained. “It’s on all the radio stations, I got nothing to do with it, believe me,” the man pleaded.

“Doctor, what’s happening? It’s everywhere!” Amy exclaimed, looking around. The Doctor frowned, then reached for the Dreamer’s hand. He smiled when it fit just as perfectly in his as Rose’s hand (well, technically, the Dreamer’s previous body) had fit both his previous regenerations. Pulling her along, the Doctor ran to a nearby house.

“Repeat. Prisoner Zero will vacate the human residence or the human residence will be incinerated. Repeat.”

XXX

Inside the house, the large Atraxi eyeball that the Dreamer had glimpsed through the crack on Amelia’s wall was on every channel on the television. 

“Hello!” the Doctor said cheerfully. “Sorry to burst in. We’re doing a special on television faults in this neighborhood.” He looked at Amelia. “Also, crimes.”

“Hello, Amy!” the older lady said with a smile. “Are you a policewoman now?”

“Well, sometimes,” Amy said.

“I thought you were a nurse?”

“I can be a nurse.”

“Or, actually, a nun?”

“I dabble.” The Dreamer giggled at the look on the elderly woman’s face.

“Amy, who’s your friends?”

“Who’s Amy? You were Amelia!” the Doctor exclaimed.

“Yeah? Now I’m Amy,” the redhead said.

“Amelia Pond is a lovely name,” the Dreamer interjected.

“Bit fairytale,” Amy said, shrugging. The Doctor winced.

“I know you, don’t I? I’ve seen you somewhere before,” the old woman said.

“Nope, not me, new face, first time out,” the Doctor said distractedly. “Amy, you were a little girl five minutes ago!”

“You’re worse than my aunt.”

“I’m the Doctor. I’m worse than everyone’s aunt. And that is not how I’m introducing myself,” the Doctor clarified.

“Theta, be nice,” the Dreamer chastised.

Meanwhile, the Dreamer was inspecting the radio. She changed the setting on her sonic and found that the Atraxi were broadcasting in every language. “They’re broadcasting to the whole world, Doctor,” she said.

“Ok,” he said. “Planet this size, two poles, your basic molten core, they’ll need, what, a forty percent fission blast?”

“What are you talking about?” Amy asked, confused.

“They’ll have to power up, first,” the Dreamer said. “Assuming a medium-sized starship, that should take about twenty minutes. Wouldn’t you agree, Doctor?”

“Right, twenty minutes. Nice calculations.”

“Thanks.”

“Twenty minutes until what?”

“Oh, just the usual,” the Dreamer informed Amy.

“The usual?”

“The end of the world.”

A young man entered the house and looked at the Doctor. “Are you the Doctor?” he asked, glancing at Amy, who was flushed crimson.

“Shut up,” she muttered.

“It’s him! The Raggedy Doctor!” the old woman, Ms. Angelo, exclaimed. “All those cartoons you drew when you were little. It is, isn’t it!”

“And the Dreamer,” Jeff continued. “Wow, the pictures really don’t do you justice,” he said, his eyes roving up and down her body. The Dreamer walked towards the door, smacking Jeff’s face on her way by. “Ouch!” he yelped.

The Doctor glared at him. “Serves you right,” he muttered under his breath. “Now, Amy Pond, where are we?”

“Leadworth,” the ginger answered.

“Where’s the rest of it?”

“This is it.”

“Is there an airport?”

“No.”

“A nuclear power station?”

“No.”

“Not even a small one?”

“Theta!” the Dreamer snapped. “Focus. This is it. The nearest city is Gloucester, and it’s too far away to get to in time. Well, I could get there, but not sure if I can take anyone else with me.”

“Fantastic. Oh, I can say that word again! Fantastic!”

“Focus.”

“Right. Twenty minutes to save the world and I’ve got a post office. And it’s shut. Fantastic. Wait, what did you say about traveling? What do you mean, you could get there?”

“Bad Wolf. I’m connected to the Time Vortex. I could probably use it to capture Prisoner Zero and bring him to the Atraxi, if you’d like.”

Before the Doctor could answer, the sun went dark.

“What’s wrong with the sun?” Amy asked.

“Nothing, you’re just looking at it through a forcefield,” the Dreamer told her.

“This isn’t real, is it. This is just some big wind up.”

“Why would we wind you up?”

“You told me you had a time machine.”

“We do have a time machine. The best ship in the universe, the Old Girl is,” the Dreamer answered, a smile playing about her lips as she thought of the many adventures they’d had in the TARDIS.

“You believed me,” the Doctor said accusingly.

“Then I grew up.”

“Oh, you never want to do that. What’s the point of being grown up if you can’t be childish sometimes? Oh! I saw–what did I see? Hang on. Shut up. Arkytior, what did I see?”

The Dreamer looked around. There. A man was taking pictures but not of the sky like everyone else. He was photographing a man with a dog. “Him,” she answered.

“Yes! Right. Human race, the end of the world, everyone’s got to get it on a video phone. Except him. He’s taking a picture of a man and a dog. Why?” the Doctor stalked over to the poor man.

Meanwhile, Amy was looking at the Dreamer for some sort of proof. “Believe in us for twenty minutes, Amy Pond,” the Dreamer said. She pulled the apple with the face on it out of her pocket. It was still fresh. Amy looked at it for a long moment, then nodded and the two girls went to keep the Doctor from mauling the man.

“Man and a dog. Why?”

“It’s him! The Raggedy Doctor. From when we were little. Amy, it’s him! But, you’re not real. It was just a game!”

“Who are you?” the Dreamer asked.

“That’s Rory. He’s a… friend.”

“Boyfriend,” Rory corrected.

“Sort of boyfriend,” Amy decided.

“Amy…”

“Just answer his question, please.”

“Man and dog, why? Tell me now.”

“Because–because he can’t be there. Because he’s in the hospital– “

“In a coma?” the Dreamer finished questioningly.

“Yeah.”

“Knew it,” the Doctor said. “Multiform, see? Can disguise itself as anything, but it needs a live feed. A psychic link with a living but dormant mind.”

“There’s a Prisoner Zero too?” Rory exclaimed incredulously.

“Yes,” the Dreamer said curtly. “Now shut up and listen.”

“He melted,” Amy said suddenly. “Prisoner Zero. He sort of melted and went down the drain.”

“Of course he did,” the Dreamer sighed.

“No TARDIS, no screwdriver, seventeen minutes ‘til the end of the world. Come on, think!” the Doctor muttered, pacing.

“I do have a screwdriver, remember? But that isn’t going to help. I have an idea, Theta. We need to get the Atraxi’s attention. Rory, phone,” the Dreamer said, snatching the phone from the bewildered nurse’s hand. “On here are pictures of all the multiform’s forms. What if– “

“I wrote a computer virus on his phone? Oh you are absolutely brilliant!” the Doctor picked the Dreamer up and spun her around in a hug. He took the phone from her and ran back to Jeff’s house. “Have Amy and Rory clear the coma ward! And call me when their done! I’ll meet you there!” With that, the Doctor was gone.

XXX

A few moments later, the Dreamer, Amy, and Rory were walking through the myriad of hallways, headed to the coma ward. A woman with two girls met them in the corridor.

“What happened?” Amy asked.

“There was a man with a dog,” the mother said. Her voice didn’t sound quite right, and the Dreamer frowned.

“He was so angry. He kept shouting and shouting,” the child said, but her voice was that of the mother. The Dreamer backed away slowly. “And that dog. The size of that dog.”

The other child began to speak, using the correct voice this time. “I swear it was rabid. And he just went mad, attacking everyone. Where did he go, did you see? We hid in the ladies.”

The speaker switched back to the mother. “Oh, I’m getting it wrong again, aren’t I? I always do that. So many mouths.”

Amy dialed the Doctor. “Doctor? We’re in, but so is Prisoner Zero. I’ve barricaded the door,” she said this as they ran through a door into the coma ward and shoved a broom through the handles “but it’s getting in.”

“What window?” the Doctor asked.

“First floor, on the left, fourth from the end.”

The broom shattered.

“Oh, dear little Amelia Pond. I’ve watched you grow up. Twelve years, and you never even knew I was there. Amelia Pond, waiting for her magic Doctor in his blue box to come back. But not this time.”

Amy’s phone beeped. “Duck,” she read aloud. The three did so, and the ladder of the fire truck crashed through the window.

“Right. Hello. Am I late? No, still three minutes to go. I’ve got time,” the Doctor announced as he entered the room. The Dreamer smiled at him.

“Cutting it a bit close, aren’t you?” she asked teasingly. He grinned down at her.

“Ahem!” Amy cleared her throat. The Doctor’s attention snapped to her, then to Prisoner Zero.

“Time for what, Time Lords?” Prisoner Zero asked, using the mother.

“Time to take the disguise off,” the Dreamer said.

“They’ll find you in a heartbeat. Nobody dies,” the Doctor finished.

“The Atraxi will kill me this time,” the prisoner said.

“Not our problem,” the Dreamer told it firmly.

“You came to this world by opening a crack in space and time. Do it again. Just leave.” That was the Doctor.

“I did not open the crack.”

“Then who did?”

“The cracks in the skin of the universe, don’t you know where they came from? You don’t, do you?” The prisoner switched to the child’s voice. “The Doctor in the TARDIS doesn’t know, doesn’t know!”

“Shut up,” the Dreamer growled, feeling the Wolf awakening inside her mind.

“And you, Bad Wolf, a Goddess of Time, tell me you know what the cracks are?”

“I have not looked,” the Dreamer admitted.

“The universe is cracked. The Pandorica will open. Silence will fall,” the mother said.

“And we’re off. Look at that!” the Doctor enthused as all the clocks turned to zeroes. “Yeah, I know, it’s just a clock, whatever. But in one little bedroom, my team is working, spreading the word, quantum-fast. The word is out. And you know what that word is? Zero. Now, me, if I was up in the sky monitoring all Earth communications, and I saw that, I would track it to its source, in, say, under a minute. Which, the source, by the way, is right here.”

A bright light shined through the windows. “Oh, look! They’ve found us.”

“The Atraxi are limited. While I am in this form, they can’t find me.”

“Yes, but, this bit is really my favorite. The best bit, don’t you think, dear?” the Doctor asked, turning towards the Dreamer. She grinned.

“Focus, Theta.”

“Right, yes. You know what this phone is full of? Pictures. Pictures of you, all the forms you’ve learned to take, right here, being uploaded. And the final score is no TARDIS, no screwdriver, two minutes to spare. Who da man? Oh, I’m never saying that again.”

“Please, don’t,” the Dreamer said, laughing.

“Then I shall take a new form,” Prisoner Zero said, surprising them all.

“What? But you can’t just do that. It takes months to for a connection.”

“And I’ve had years.” The Dreamer spun towards Amy, realizing what was about to happen.

Prisoner Zero transformed into a gangly man with floppy brown hair wearing a torn and ripped shirt. “That’s rubbish. Who’s that supposed to be?” the Doctor asked.

“That’s what you look like now, Theta,” the Dreamer told him with a hint of amusement in her voice. “The clothes are a bit terrible, you know. You really ought to change them.”

“How do you not know what you look like?” Rory asked, confused.

“Busy day,” the Doctor said dismissively. “You’ve linked with her, why are you copying me?”

“I’m not,” said the voice of little Amelia as she came around the side of the Doctor. “Poor little Amy Pond, still such a child inside, dreaming of her Raggedy Doctor she knows will return to save her. What a disappointment you’ve been.”

“She’s not,” the Dreamer said, watching as a copy of herself stepped out from behind the copied Doctor and took his other hand. “She’s dreaming about us because she can hear us. Amy, remember the room? The room you never noticed? We told you not to go in, but you are stubborn and brave and so Scottish and you didn’t listen. Remember what you saw. Dream about it, dream about what you saw.” 

Prisoner Zero cried, “No!” and changed into its original form.

“A perfect impersonation of yourself,” the Doctor said darkly.

“Prisoner Zero is located. Prisoner Zero is restrained,” the Atraxi voice said. The forcefield around the planet was withdrawn as the ship retreated.

“Silence, Doctor, Dreamer. Silence will fall,” Prisoner Zero said just before it was taken away.

“You’ve done it, it’s over!” Rory exclaimed. The Doctor wasn’t listening. He was messing with the phone. “What are you doing?”

“Tracking the signal back. Sorry in advance.”

“For what?”

“The bill.” He lifted the phone to his ear. “Hey, you, I didn’t say you could go! Article fifty-seven of the Shadow Proclamation. This is a fully established level five planet and you were going to incinerate it? What? Did you think no one was watching? You lot, back here, now. Ok, now I’ve done it,” he finished as he closed the phone. “I’m saving the world, need a decent change of clothes,” he decided as they passed the locker rooms on the way to the roof.

“Did he just bring them back? Did he just save the world from aliens and then bring them back?” Rory asked. No one bothered to answer him.

A moment later, dressed in a new shirt, suspenders, trousers, boots, with a tweed jacket on and a selection of ties about his neck, the Doctor stepped onto the roof, followed closely by the Dreamer. She was thinking herself that it was time for her to pay a visit to the Wardrobe in the TARDIS and find a decent outfit for herself. “So was this a good idea? They were leaving,” Amy stated nervously.

“Leaving is good,” the Doctor said.

“Never coming back is far better, though,” the Dreamer added. “Don’t worry, Amy Pond, we do this all the time.”

“Come on then, the Doctor will see you now!”

The Atraxi eyeball hovered in front of them and scanned the both of them. “You are not of this world.”

“No, but we’ve put a hell of a lot of work in it,” the Dreamer answered. She glanced at the Doctor’s ties and threw a few of them over his shoulders. “I don’t like those.”

“Is this world important?” the Atraxi asked.

“Important? What’s that even mean? Six billion people live here, what do you think? Here’s a better question. Is this world a threat to the Atraxi?” A projection of Earth culture appeared, scrolling in front of the eye.

“No,” it said grudgingly.

“Are the peoples of this world guilty of any crime by the Atraxi?” the Dreamer added.

“No.”

“Ok, just one more. Is this world protected? Because you’re not the first to come here. There’ve been so many, so so many.” A projection of Daleks, Cybermen, Slitheen, and various other aliens that the Doctor had fought appeared, followed by a projection of the Doctor’s regenerations. As it neared the end, the Doctor, who had tied the last tie in a bow tie about his neck, grabbed the Dreamer’s hand and stepped through the projection. “Hello. We're the Doctor and the Dreamer. Basically, run.” 

The eyeball retracted and the Atraxi ship flew away quickly. The Doctor grinned and spun the Dreamer around, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Suddenly, the Dreamer felt her TARDIS key grow hot. She shouted gleefully and ran, sprinting back towards the ship, dragging the Doctor along with her by their still joined hands.

“Oh, you Sexy thing, let’s see what you’ve got for us now!” the Dreamer shouted as she unlocked the door. It was beautiful, all golden and glass, with no ceiling, just constellations swirling. The Doctor pulled a lever, sending them to the Vortex, and they laughed and danced around the console to Moonlight Serenade, which the TARDIS thoughtfully played for them.

XXX

A while later, they decided to go and get Amy. When the TARDIS materialized, however, the Dreamer saw that it was nighttime. “I believe we are late again, Theta,” she told the Doctor. 

“You came back,” Amy said. She was standing outside the box in her nightgown.

“Of course we came back.”

“It’s been two years.”

“What?” this was the Doctor. “Oh, Amy Pond, the girl who waited, you’ve waited long enough. Come on.”

“Can you get me back for tomorrow morning?”

“I can get you back to five minutes ago. What’s tomorrow morning?”

“… stuff.” The Dreamer grinned.

“Ok,” she said, “back in time for stuff. We can do that, can’t we, Theta?”

“Easily!” the Doctor cried. Amy grinned and ran inside the TARDIS. “Come along, Pond. Ooh, I like that.” The Dreamer giggled.

“It does flow nicely. Come on, Amy, let’s get you some clothes to wear. And maybe find the swimming pool. I believe the Old Girl moved it from the library. All of Time and Space available to you; you don’t want to be in your nightie while exploring! Come along, Pond!”

**There’s Eleventh Hour over and done with. I’m thinking a short interlude after this chapter where the Doctor and the Dreamer talk a bit about, well, stuff that they haven’t really had a chance to talk about yet. As always, please review, and thanks to reviewers, followers, and favoriters!**


	6. Heart--To--Hearts

**A/N: Short interlude before Starship UK. A brief heart-to-heart between the Dreamer and Amy, and between the Dreamer and the Doctor. After this, we’ll move on to the action.**

**Disclaimer: I own no Who. If I did, Rose would still be around.**

Heart–to–Hearts

“So, Amy, what do you think of the ship?” the Dreamer asked conversationally. “You ready to go on an adventure?” The two of them had found the Wardrobe and changed clothes, Amy into a denim miniskirt and pink tank-top, and the Dreamer into dark skinny jeans, an emerald green short-sleeved shirt, Converse, and a black leather jacket similar to the one the Doctor’s ninth incarnation had worn. Glancing into the mirror, the Dreamer noticed that the ring of gold around her eyes had not faded. It probably wouldn’t, since she had accessed the Vortex.

“It’s beautiful, but you talk about it like it’s alive or something and I don’t understand. How can a box be a ship? And how can a ship be alive? I’m all confused.”

“Well, She is alive. TARDISes are grown, on Gallifrey– “ the Dreamer cut off abruptly. “Were grown. On Gallifrey. That’s the planet of the Time Lords, you see, that’s what the Doctor and I are, we’re Time Lords– “ she realized that she was rambling and forced herself to stop. “It is basic transdimensional technology. The interior of the TARDIS is a different dimension. She’s sentient, and so the way you talk to her is like you would talk to any normal person, only She responds differently. She hums, and will flicker lights. If the Doctor is being annoying She’s been known to spark him. But you’ll figure this stuff out.”

“Why do you call the Doctor Theta?”

“He’s an old friend of mine, from the Academy. He was called Theta Sigma, and my name then was Arkytior. When we graduated, we both chose names that defined who we were/wanted to be. The Dreamer, she who dreams, of the impossible, of things that can happen, rather than just being stuck in tradition. The Doctor, the one who heals. He forsook his name during the War–never mind.”

“What war? And, you said ‘were grown’ why don’t they grow TARDISes anymore?”

“The Time War. And they don’t because there aren’t any Time Lords left. Just the Doctor and I. It is a very long and sensitive story and it is more painful to the Doctor than to me so I will let him decide if you get to know more. Please, don’t ask any more questions about it.”

“I–can I have a moment? Please? Alone?”

“Sure, Amy, no problem. I’ll see you in the console room.”

XXX

The Dreamer walked into the console room to see the Doctor sitting with his legs dangling out the open doors of the TARDIS. They were in orbit around a nebula of some sort; the Dreamer didn’t know which one. “Hey,” she said softly, not wanting to startle him.

“The big Bad Wolf,” the Doctor answered quietly. “I still don’t really understand how you got here."

“It’s hard to tell. I can show you, if you’d like. And– “ here she hesitated, unsure.

“I would like that. And what?”

“I’m still–or well if you want–we were the best of friends on Gallifrey, before the War–it has changed us both but I think that we could still be what we never got the chance to be to each other,” she said uncertainly. He was so much darker, but so was she. Even if she had spent a long time living linearly making her a hundred years or so younger than him.

“Let’s just take it slow,” the Doctor said softly. “I’m afraid I’ve changed far more than you know.”

The Dreamer nodded, accepting this, and then placed her fingers on his temples, showing him the memories from the end of the War, when Rassilon sent her away, to when her and James discovered the locket, and then the Bad Wolf. Sometime in the middle of this, Amy came back from the Wardrobe, the Dreamer knew, but she didn’t break the telepathic contact. The Doctor showed her some of the things he’d done. She saw Mars, and how he had interfered with fixed points. She saw how lonely and dark he had become without a hand to hold. They could’ve done the exchange far faster, but it was so lonely inside the Dreamer’s head that she clung to the mental contact as long as possible. 

“Hello? Doctor? What are you two doing?” Amy’s voice brought them back to reality. Slowly withdrawing from each other’s minds, the two Time Lords turned to look at their new companion.

“Telepathic contact, Amy,” the Dreamer said. “He and I have been apart for a while and we were exchanging memories. Like catching up after vacation.”

“Amy Pond, want to float in space?” the Doctor asked. Amy grinned, and he beckoned her over to the doors. “Arkytior, would you please have the Old Girl extend the air shell?” The TARDIS hummed as the Dreamer flipped the switch that would do as the Doctor wished.

Amy giggled like a small child when the Doctor held her ankle and allowed her to float outside of the TARDIS. She twisted and looked around, above the top of the blue box. “What’s that, over there? Says Starship UK.”

**As promised, a short interlude with some important bits of conversation. I’m not very good at this sort of thing, so yeah, sorry if it is out of character and not good. Next up will be the Beast Below, which will probably be in two parts. You’ll have to read to find out! Thanks again to all the reviewers, followers, and favoriters. You guys give me the inspiration to keep writing.**


	7. Of Smilers and Star Whales--The Impossible Truth

**A/N: The Beast Below is not my favorite episode, but I’ll do my best to write it without it being too boring. Also, I’m definitely changing the episode name, because I don’t like it. So, yeah. Author Victorious, here. Enjoy! Note: when I get 50 reviews, I’ll give you a spoiler scene, how’s that sound?**

**Disclaimer: No, I do not own Doctor Who. Do I really have to say this every time?**

Of Smilers and Star Whales–The Impossible Truth

“Now that’s interesting. Twenty-ninth century. Solar flares roast the earth, and the entire human race packs their bags and moves out until the weather improves. Whole nations,” the Doctor said. He darted over to the scanner, looking for the coordinates to land them on the spaceship. “Come along, Pond, I’ve found us a spaceship. This is the United Kingdom of Britain and Northern Ireland. All of it, bolted together and floating in the sky. Starship UK. It's Britain, but metal. That's not just a ship, that's an idea. That's a whole country, living and laughing and shopping. Searching the stars for a new home.”

“Can we go see?”

The Doctor was already out of the door. The Dreamer grinned at Amy. “Come along, Pond,” she said teasingly. Amy grimaced slightly at the phrase that was clearly going to be a permanent thing and followed the Dreamer out.

“Now that’s odd,” the Dreamer murmured. She looked around curiously. Amy was making some comment about having been dead for centuries, but the Dreamer ignored the conversation, instead focusing on the feel of the ground at her feet. She stepped over to a table. “Excuse me,” she said, grabbing a glass of water off the table and setting it on the ground. “Theta, come look at this.”

“Oh, now that’s interesting. Sorry, there’s an escaped fish in the area, just checking all the water supplies,” the Doctor rambled to the people sitting at the table the glass of water had come from. “Now, police state, Amy Pond. Do you see it yet?”

The Dreamer looked closer at her surroundings. She realized what the Doctor had seen quickly, but Amy seemed to be oblivious. “What? Where is it?”

“Her,” the Dreamer said, pointing at the young girl sitting alone, crying. The Doctor smiled at her.

“One little girl crying. So?” Amy wanted to know.

“Crying silently. I mean, children cry when they want something, when they’re hurt or afraid. But when they cry silently, it’s because they just can’t stop. Any parent knows that,” the Doctor informed her.

“Are you a parent?” The Dreamer saw the shutters drop over his eyes at Amy’s question.

“Hundreds of parents walking past have spotted her, but not one has stopped to help,” the Doctor said, evading the sensitive subject. “Not one of them is asking her what is wrong, which means they already know, which means it is something they don’t talk about. Secrets. They aren’t stopping to help, which means it’s something they’re afraid of. Shadows. You can’t see it, which means it is everywhere. Police state.”

“And I bet it has something to do with those smiling faces in the booths,” the Dreamer interjected. “Look around. Everything here is beat-up, battered, filthy. So many people living in close quarters, stuff gets dirty fast. But look at those booths. Completely clean, not a single smidge or fingerprint or mark on the glass. No one goes near them.” At that moment, the crying girl stepped into a lift and disappeared.

“Where’d she go?” Amy asked, a hint of worry in her voice.

“Deck two oh seven, Apple Sesame block, dwelling 54A. You’re looking for Mandy Tanner. Oh, this, uh, fell out of her pocket when I accidentally bumped into her. Took me four tries. Ask her about those smiling fellows in the booths, because the Dreamer is right. Not even a footprint near them.” The Doctor handed Amy a wallet that belonged to Mandy.

“No, wait, I don’t know what I’m doing,” Amy protested.

“It’s either here or Leadworth. Which will Amy Pond choose? I bet I know. Ha, ha, gotcha. Meet me back here in thirty minutes,” the Doctor said. Amy slowly walked over to the lift and stepped inside.

“So, where are we going?” the Dreamer asked. 

“You know where,” the Doctor told her. The two Time Lords started off, hand in hand.

XXX

The Dreamer climbed down a ladder after the Doctor and glanced around. “So. Spaceship this size, I should be able to feel the engine vibrations. Definitely should be able to see them in a glass of water.”

The Doctor tapped on the wall, then scanned it with his new sonic. “What do you make of this?”

“It’s hollow. No engine vibrations… nothing behind the wall where the engine should be… it’s almost like there is no engine at all!”

“Are you deducting, Lewis?” the Doctor asked softly with a little smile. The Dreamer grinned at the old joke.

“Maybe, Sarge,” she teased. “But, seriously, that’s impossible!”

“The impossible truth in a glass of water. Not many see it. But you two do, Doctor, Dame,” a voice said from the shadows. A young-looking woman stepped out. 

“You know me?” the Doctor asked, incredulous. The Dreamer frowned. She was more curious as to how the woman had known that her human persona, Rose Tyler, had been knighted. Had she still been wearing that body, it would’ve been more understandable, but…

“How did you recognize me? Some sort of non-linear meeting? I’ve changed my face since I was Dame Rose Tyler of the Powell Estate, yet you used my title.”

The woman shook her head. “It doesn’t matter, not now. We have little time. The impossible truth: we are flying through the stars in a ship that could never fly.” She handed them a tracking device of some sort. “There is a darkness at the heart of this nation. It threatens every one of us. This will lead you to your friend. We need your help, Doctor, Dame.”

“Who are you? And how do we find you again?” the Doctor asked as the woman turned to leave.

“I am Liz Ten, and I will find you,” was her cryptic reply.

“Well, isn’t that just textbook enigmatic,” the Dreamer muttered. The Doctor chuckled at the look on her face.

“Shall we go find our companion, Dame Arkytior?” he asked, offering her his arm.

“I believe we shall, Sir Doctor,” she responded with a grin, taking his hand.

XXX

They found Amy locked inside some sort of booth, outside of which waited Mandy, the little girl. The Doctor sonicked the door open and stepped inside. “Amy?”

“What have you done?” the Dreamer asked, catching sight of the message on the screen. It was Amy, talking to herself, apparently telling them to leave. The Dreamer scanned the ceiling with her sonic. “Now that’s interesting. It’s a basic memory wipe. Probably removed about twenty minutes of your memories. What’s it for, I wonder?”

“But, why would I choose to forget?” Amy asked. It was Mandy who answered.

“Because everyone does. Everyone chooses to forget.”

“Did you?” Amy wanted to know.

“I’m not old enough to vote, yet. I’m twelve. You’re eligible to vote at sixteen, then once every five years after that.”

“And once every five years, everyone chooses to forget what they’ve learned,” the Doctor muttered. “Democracy in action.”

“How did you not know that?” Mandy asked. “Are you Scottish, too?”

“Oh, I’m way worse than Scottish. I can’t even see the movie. It won’t play for me, and I bet it won’t play for Arkytior, either,” the Doctor said.

“It played for me,” Amy said, not understanding.

“The difference being that the computer doesn’t accept us” here he nodded at the Dreamer, “as human.”

“Why not? You look human,” Amy commented.

“No, you look Time Lord. We came first.”

“There are other Time Lords, yeah? There’ve got to be other ones, maybe you just don’t know where they are,” Amy said.

“Amy…” the Dreamer started. The Doctor cut her off.

“No. There were, but there aren’t. Just me and the Dreamer now. Long story. There was a bad day. Bad things happened. And you know what? I’d love to forget it all, every last bit of it, but I don’t. Not ever. Because this is what I do, every hour, every minute, every second. This. Hold tight. We’re bringing down the government.” The Doctor slammed his open palm onto the protest button.

“Say whee!” the Dreamer said, sarcastically.

“Argh,” Amy cried.

The door to the cubicle slammed shut, trapping Amy and the Time Lords inside. The Smiler in the booth rotated, changing to a scowling face, and the floor dropped away, sending the three time travelers into a long chute. The bottom cannot be seen, and the Dreamer reached out to take the Doctor’s hand as the fell into the unknown.

**Yes, I know this chapter is short, but this felt like the best place to cut it off. Because I’m not telling things from Amy’s point of view, there is a large chunk of this episode that gets cut out. So, question: what do you think of the balance between the Doctor and the Dreamer? Is there too much of one? Not enough of the other? Please let me know! And, please review. Thanks as always to all reviewers, favoriters, and followers. You guys are my inspiration.**


	8. Of Smilers and Star Whales--When Children Cry

**A/N: Here we come to the second half of the Beast Below. There’s a few episodes I’m planning on skipping, such as Amy’s Choice (I don’t really like that episode and I don’t want to try to write it with the Dreamer). Victory of the Daleks will still happen, but I won’t be rewriting it (you’ll understand when you read the next chapter.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, except the Dreamer.**

Of Smilers and Star Whales–When Children Cry

“Argh! High speed air cannon. Not the way to travel,” the Doctor exclaimed as he landed in what appeared to be some sort of rubbish dump. The Dreamer tumbled down next, using her gymnastic skills to land on her feet. Amy screamed as she followed the Time Lords.

“Why do I feel like I’ve just crashed into Star Wars?” the Dreamer muttered under her breath. The Doctor snorted, catching the comment.

“Never mind that. Where are we?” Amy asked, getting to her feet.

“Sixty miles down, twenty miles laterally, puts us at the heart of the ship. I’d say Lancashire. What’s this then, a cave? Looks like a cave. Not a cave.”

“It’s a rubbish dump, and it’s minging!”

“Hence, the Star Wars comment,” the Dreamer said with a sigh. “Theta, are we standing on what I believe we are standing on?”

“It’s all squidgy, like a water bed,” Amy declared. “It’s sorta rubbery, feel it. Wet and slimy.”

“Yes, er, it’s not a floor. It’s a– “the Doctor started nervously.

“A what?”

“The next word is a scary word. You might want to take a moment to prepare yourself. Go omm.”

“Omm.”

“It’s a tongue.”

“A tongue?” Amy exclaimed.

“A tongue. A great, big tongue.”

“We’re in a mouth,” the Dreamer said. “Doctor, your plan for getting us out…”

“How big is this beastie? Blimey, it’s gorgeous. If this is the mouth, I’d like to see the stomach. Not right now, of course,” the Doctor rambled.

“Doctor, how do we get out?” Amy asked. The Dreamer took a deep breath as the floor began to vibrate.

“No, stop, don’t move,” the Doctor said. “It’s started.”

“What’s started?”

“Swallow reflex.” The Doctor pulled out his screwdriver, adjusted the setting, and buzzed it at the tongue.

“What are you doing?” 

“Vibrating the chemo-receptors.”

“The what?”

“Amy,” the Dreamer interjected. “The eject button, of sorts. Think about it.”

“Right, then,” the Doctor started. “This isn’t gonna be big on dignity. Geronimo!”

XXX

A moment later, they ended up in the overspill pipe. “No broken bones, no concussion, and yes you are covered in sick,” the Doctor informed their disgusted companion.

“Where are we?”

“Overspill pipe.”

“God, it stinks.”

“Amy, that isn’t the pipe…” the Dreamer said. “If it makes you feel any better, Time Lord senses are far more sensitive than human ones, so we’re smelling it worse than you are.”

“Comforting,” Amy mumbled. “Can we get out?”

“One door,” the Doctor said. “One switch. Surprise.”

“We forget everything we saw?” the Dreamer hazarded, approaching the door. She saw the large ‘Forget’ button and snorted. “But of course.”

“That’s the carrot,” the Doctor said. “And there’s the stick.” The Dreamer turned to see two booths light up, containing Smilers.

“Rassilon, those things are everywhere,” she grumbled. “There’s a creature living at the heart of this ship. Why is it there?”

The Smilers’ heads turned, becoming Frowners. The Doctor snorted. “That won’t work on us. Come on, big ol’ beastie below decks, everyone who protests get shoved down its throat. That’s it, eh?”

The Frowners’ heads rotated again, becoming Scowlers. The angry faces were slightly disturbing, the Dreamer noted. “Oh, stop it. We aren’t leaving and we aren’t forgetting.”

“What are you going to do about it, huh? Stick out your tongues?” the Doctor asked mockingly. The Dreamer rolled her eyes as, on cue, the booths swung open and the Smilers stepped out.

“You just had to say that, didn’t you? What happened to not making comments like ‘it couldn’t get any worse’ and ‘this is perfectly safe’?” the Dreamer asked. The Doctor just shook his head.

“Alright, maybe that wasn’t the smartest thing to say,” the Doctor admitted.

“Doctor!” Amy called. The Doctor turned to see Liz Ten, without her mask on. Liz shot the Smilers, and walked over to them.

“Oh, look who it is. You look a lot better without your mask,” the Doctor said.

“You must be Amy. Liz. Liz Ten,” Liz said to the ginger.

“Hi,” Amy said.

“Yuck. You have lovely hair. Sorry about the sick. You know Mandy, yeah? She’s very brave.”

“How did you find us?” the Doctor asked.

“Let me guess: the tracker you gave us to find Amy works both ways,” the Dreamer said. Liz Ten nodded in affirmation.

“Stuck my little gizmo on you, been listening in. Nice move with the hurl escape. So what’s the big fella doing here?”

“You’re over sixteen, you’ve voted,” the Doctor said slightly accusingly. “Whatever it is, you’ve chosen to forget it.”

Liz shook her head. “No. Never voted. Not technically a British subject.”

“Then who and what are you, and how do you know about me? And the Dreamer? That’s the one I’m most confused about.”

“You’re a bit hard to miss, love. Mysterious stranger, MO consistent with higher alien intelligence, hair of an idiot. I’ve been brought up on the stories. My entire family has.”

“Your family?” the Dreamer asked.

“They’re repairing. Let’s move.”

They ended up in a basement. “The Doctor. Old drinking buddy of Henry Twelve. Tea and scones with Liz Two. Vicky was a bit on the fence about the two of you, wasn’t she? Knighted and exiled you both on the same day. And so much for the Virgin Queen, you bad, bad boy.”

The Dreamer frowned at that. “That’s a story I need to hear,” she said quietly.

“And as for how I know about the Dame? Your closest companion was Rose Tyler. Long time ago, Torchwood records were changed, stating that Rose Tyler was just an alias for the Dreamer, who is another of your kind. The two of you are allies of the throne.”

“Liz Ten,” the Doctor said, realization dawning across his face.

“Yep. Elizabeth the Tenth. And down!” The Doctor ducked and Liz shot the Smilers again over him. “I’m the bloody Queen, mate. Basically, I rule!”

They entered a corridor. “There’s these things, these tentacles. They’re growing through the whole ship. Any ideas?”

“Doctor,” Amy said. “I saw one of these up top. There was a hole in the road. It had burst through like a root.”

“Exactly like a root,” the Dreamer said. “It’s all one creature, the same one we saw down below. It’s growing through the ship, like an infestation.”

“Someone’s helping it. Feeding it. Feeding my subjects to it,” Liz said. “Come on, we’ve got to keep moving.”

The Doctor stared at the tentacle. “Oh, Arkytior, we never should have come here.”

XXX

The group of four entered the state apartments. “Why all the glasses?” the Dreamer asked curiously. 

“To remind me every day that my government is up to something and keeping it from me,” Liz responded.

“A queen going undercover to investigate her own realm?” the Doctor asked.

“Secrets are being kept from me. I don’t have a choice. I’ve been doing this my entire reign. Ten years. You’ve achieved more in one afternoon than I have in my entire reign.”

“How old were you when you took the throne?” the Doctor questioned. He was looking at Liz Ten’s mask.

“Forty, why?”

“You’re fifty?” Amy exclaimed. “No way!”

“Yeah, they slowed my body clock. Keeps me looking like the stamps.”

“And you wear this every time you’re out in public?” the Doctor asked. He had picked up the mask.

“Undercover’s not easy when you’re me. The autographs, the bunting.”

“Air balanced porcelain. Stays on by itself, because it’s perfectly sculpted to your face.”

“Yeah. So what?”

“Oh, Liz,” the Dreamer said as she realized what the Doctor had noticed. “So everything.”

At that moment, a group of Winders entered the room. “What are they doing here?” Amy asked.

“You have expressed interest in the interior workings of Starship UK, Ma’am. You will come with us now.”

“Why would I do that?” Her question was answered when the man’s head turned around.

“Half Smiler, half human,” the Doctor murmured.

“Whatever you creatures are, I am still your Queen,” Liz asserted.

“Yes, Ma’am. You will come with us now, Ma’am.”

“On whose authority is this done?”

“The highest authority, Ma’am.”

“I am the highest authority.”

“Yes, Ma’am. You must go now, Ma’am”

“Go where?”

“The Tower, Ma’am.”

XXX

“Doctor, where are we?” Amy asked, looking around the Tower.

“The Tower. The lowest point of Starship UK. The dungeon,” he answered.

“Ma’am,” a man said.

“Hawthorne. So this is where you’ve been hiding. You’ve got some explaining to do.”

“There are children down here. What for?” the Dreamer asked.

“Protestors and citizens of limited value are fed to the beast. For some reason, it won’t eat the children. You are the first adults it’s spared. You’re very lucky,” Hawthorne replied.

“Yeah, look at us. Torture chamber of the Tower of London. Lucky, lucky, lucky. Except it’s not the torture chamber, is it? Except it is. Except it isn’t. All depends on your point of view,” the Doctor said. The Dreamer could see the Oncoming Storm brewing in his eyes.

“What’s that?” Liz asked, catching sight of the top of a large brain, being rhythmically struck with pulses of electricity. The Dreamer could feel a faint presence in the back of her mind, screaming in pain.

“Oh,” she gasped. “Oh, no.” The Doctor glanced behind him at her and nodded darkly.

“Oh, yes. Like I say, it’s either the exposed pain center of this big guy’s brain, being tortured relentlessly, or.”

“Or what?”

“Or it’s the gas pedal,” the Dreamer whispered.

“Exactly. Starship UK’s go-faster button. Depends on your angle.”

“I don’t understand,” Liz said.

“Don’t you? Try to. Go on. This spaceship, with no engine vibration on deck, that could never fly. This creature. This poor, trapped, terrified creature. It’s not infesting you. It’s not invading. It’s what you have instead of an engine. And this is the place where you hurt it, where you torture it day after day to keep it moving. Tell you what. This is the sound none of you wanted to hear.” The Doctor pulled out his sonic and pointed it at a tentacle.

A wailing scream echoed through the room. The Dreamer felt tears gathering in her eyes. She knew that the pain-filled whisper in the back of her mind was the creature.

“Stop it! Who did this?” Liz asked.

“We do this on the highest authority,” Hawthorne said.

“I am the highest authority! Release the creature now!”

“Liz, your mask,” the Doctor said.

“What about it?”

“It’s an antique. Over two hundred years old, and perfectly sculpted to your face.”

“Yeah?”

“You aren’t fifty, Liz” the Dreamer said softly. “Nearer three hundred. The same ten years, over and over again, always leading you here.” She gestured to two buttons: forget and abdicate.

“If you are watching this. If I am watching this, then I have found my way to the Tower Of London. The creature you are looking at is called a Star Whale. Once, there were millions of them. They lived in the depths of space and, according to legend, guided the early space travellers through the asteroid belts. This one, as far as we are aware, is the last of its kind. And what we have done to it breaks my heart. The Earth was burning. Our sun had turned on us and every other nation had fled to the skies. Our children screamed as the skies grew hotter. And then it came, like a miracle. The last of the Star Whales. We trapped it, we built our ship around it, and we rode on its back to safety. If you wish our voyage to continue, then you must press the Forget button. Be again the heart of this nation, untainted. If not, press the other button. Your reign will end, the Star Whale will be released, and our ship will disintegrate. I hope I keep the strength to make the right decision.” Liz watched herself speak silently.

“Hey, Liz, gonna need a hand,” Amy shouted suddenly. “Doctor, whatever you’re planning, stop!” Amy dragged Liz over to the voting terminal and slammed her hand on the ‘Abdicate’ button.

“What are you doing?” the Doctor cried. The Dreamer suddenly realized what Amy had seen.

“Absolutely nothing,” Amy said.

“We’ve increased speed,” Hawthorne said incredulously.

“It helps when you stop torturing the pilot. Amy Pond, you are absolutely brilliant. Listen, all of you. The Star Whale won’t eat the children. You didn’t need to trap it. It volunteered. It came because it couldn’t stand to see the children cry,” the Dreamer said.

“If you were very old and very kind, and the last of your kind,” Amy said softly “you couldn’t just stand about and watch the children cry.” She looked at the Doctor, then at the Dreamer, smiling at them both.

XXX

“Theta, I was wondering, would you take me to Cardiff? I’d like to stop in and see Jack. I have a feeling he’s the one who’s responsible for Liz Ten knowing about me. Plus, he’s an old friend,” the Dreamer asked when they were back in the console room.

“Sure,” the Doctor said. He moved around the console, flipping levers and pressing buttons. “Amy Pond, let me introduce you to an old friend of mine, Captain Jack Harkness.”

The TARDIS landed near the Hub and the Dreamer grinned. Just then, the phone rang. Amy answered it. “Hello? Who is this? Sorry, who? The Prime Minister? First the Queen, and now the Prime Minister? Wow, you sure get around.”

“Which Prime Minister?” the Doctor asked.

“Which Prime Minister? Er, the British one,” Amy responded.

“Which British one?”

“Which British one? Winston Churchill for you.”

“Oh, hello dear,” the Doctor said, taking the phone from Amy. “I’ll be right there.” He hung the phone up. “We can run in and say hello really quickly, then I’ve got to go to London.”

“Go ahead and leave me here. I’ll catch up with Jack. You two can tell me all about the adventure when you come back. What time is it?”

“Um, it’s 8:00 am.”

“We can spend the day, then. Nice. You come back today, please!”

**Finally, end of the Beast Below. Torchwood time! I’m not rewriting Victory of the Daleks (as I talked briefly about above) because it will be the same as in the show. Instead, there’s gonna be a short interlude, then the beginning of the Children of Earth arc. I hope you guys are ok with that! As always, thanks to everyone! Please review, I’d like feedback!**


	9. Interlude: Torchwood

**A/N: Brief interlude, kind of a catch-up session between Jack and the Dreamer. I’ve never watched Torchwood; my only knowledge of how it works comes from reading fanfictions, so if I’ve done this completely wrong please don’t hate me. This is the calm before the storm; after this short interlude the Children of Earth arc starts. I’d really appreciate some reviews telling me how I’m doing!**

**Disclaimer: I don’t own Doctor Who or Torchwood.**

Torchwood

The Dreamer stepped inside the Hub and looked around curiously. She’d never actually been inside the building; the only time she’d seen in it was the video conference after the twenty-seven planets. It appeared to be a tourist center, but she knew better. She walked up to the front desk. A vaguely familiar looking man was seated there. She remembered seeing him on the video conference, but she couldn’t think of his name.

“Hello,” she said. “I’m looking for Captain Jack Harkness.”

The man’s face shifted slightly. “Can I take a message for him?”

“No, I’d really like to speak to him, please.” A sudden thought occurred to her and she said, “I’m an old friend. Traveled with the Doctor at the same time as him. Although, he won’t recognize me… what’s your name? I saw you on the video conference after the twenty-seven planets. Your friend looks exactly like a girl I visited here in 1869.”

The man grinned as he realized that she wasn’t just another person. She knew what she was talking about. “I’ll go get Jack. My name’s Ianto. What’s yours?”

“Well, you would know my name to be Rose,” the Dreamer answered. “Please warn Jack that he won’t recognize my face, would you?”

XXX

“Rosie, I don’t care what you look like, it will always be wonderful to see you!” Jack exclaimed as he led the Dreamer into the lower floor of the Hub, where all the Torchwood equipment was. “So, how’d you do it? Clearly, you’ve regenerated, but you were just a human.”

“I was just a human, until I discovered this locket.” The Dreamer went on to tell Jack about the Chameleon Arch and her finding out that the locket she wore was one. Jack then told her about some of his Torchwood adventures. Like usual, most of his stories ended up with him in various states of undress. A short while after she got there, Jack asked, “So where is our favorite Time Lord at anyway?”

“He got a call from Winston Churchill, actually. Not really sure what it’s about. We had just landed here. He dropped me off and took Amy, our new companion, to check it out,” the Dreamer told Jack. “I told him I wanted him to get back here today, and not twelve years late like he was with Amy.”

“Twelve years? I’ve got to hear this story,” Jack decided. Laughing, the Dreamer indulged him, also telling him about Prisoner Zero. However, she was only halfway through the story when Ianto entered the room.

“Hey, Jack, hospital called.” Jack grinned and turned to the Dreamer. 

“Care to accompany us to check out an alien?”

XXX

They entered the Hub to see the third member of Torchwood Three, Gwen, at the computer. “Jack, we’ve got a problem.”

“What is it?”

“It’s the children. Something’s wrong with the children.”

**I know this is very very short, and I’m sorry about that, but I wanted there to be a little fellowshipping between Jack and the Dreamer before starting the Children of Earth arc. So, also, I’m sorry if this is out of character. I’m not bad at writing Jack (at least I hope not) but the only thing I have to reference for Gwen and Ianto is the script from the show, which I’ll be using as a base for this arc. I won’t just be giving lines to other people like I’ve been tending to do in episode rewrites. So, anyway, please review! Sorry again for the length!**


	10. Children of Earth--Day One

**A/N: And so begins Children of Earth. This arc is crazy and frustrating because it is so much more difficult to write than a regular Doctor Who episode. I’ll try to make it flow right, but I don’t know. *Takes a deep breath* please leave me a review; I really could use some reassurance that I’m doing an okay job at this! Also, for information, if each day is in more than one part, the second part will not say “Children of Earth–Day One, Part 2” it will have an actual title. I’m just starting each day with a label.**

**Disclaimer: I don’t own Doctor Who or Torchwood. Unfortunately.**

Children of Earth–Day One

“What’s wrong with the children?” Jack asked, stepping to peer over Gwen’s shoulder at the computer screen.

“Between 8:40 and 8:41 this morning all the children just stopped. I’ve got reports of seventeen traffic accidents, all involving children, all within that minute, from Glasgow to Saint Ives.”

Ianto hunched over in front of another computer, looking at the data. “That’d be the school run,” he said. “Same reports from France. They had fifteen traffic accidents at 9:40. They’re an hour ahead, so it was at the same time.”

“All involving children?” Gwen asked.

“Yep. Hold on, got other reports coming in. Norway, Sweden, Denmark, Luxembourg, Spain, Portugal, Bosnia, Italy… it’s all over the world. Everywhere, between 8:40 and 8:41 GMT the children just stopped.”

The Dreamer stared, horrified. “Oh, no,” she whispered as she remembered the buzz in her mind she had felt earlier that morning. She’d brushed it off as nothing, but… Jack looked at her. “It’s telepathic in origin. I felt something, a buzz in my mind, a little while earlier. I ignored it, but it’s not a coincidence. I’m going to call Amy and have her tell the Doctor to land them three minutes from now inside this room.” She pulled out her phone and dialed Amy’s number. “Hey, Amy, can I speak to the Doctor, please?”

“Uh… he’s kinda not here at the moment.”

“Well, where is he? This is very important.”

“He’s on a ship with some things called Daleks.”

“What?” the Dreamer exclaimed. “Daleks? No, no, no, you can’t be serious. Wait, ‘some things called Daleks’? You mean you don’t remember the twenty-seven planets in the sky? That’s not right… but seriously. Big metal pepper pots that yell Exterminate?”

“Yup. Oh, sorry, got to go. Call you back.”

The Dreamer sighed, frustrated. She knew that their companion would call, soon, but she really needed to give the Doctor the coordinates. “Ever seen anything like this before, Jack?”

“No, never,” the immortal man answered. “Did you get ahold of the Doctor?”

The Dreamer shook her head. “Amy told me that the Doctor is apparently in the middle of a ship full of Daleks. We got a call from Winston Churchill right when we landed, and the Doctor took Amy to go see what the problem was. I really don’t want to know how the Daleks got there. Honestly, I’m just hoping that stupid alien git doesn’t do some stupid thing like trying to sacrifice himself to get rid of them. Amy said that she would call me back.” Right on cue, the Dreamer’s phone rang. “Amy?”

The Dreamer paced a short distance away. “Hey, Theta, I need you to land inside the Hub at 9:02 am GMT please. We need you, and the equipment in the TARDIS.” She hung up the phone and waited for the distinctive sound of the TARDIS landing. At precisely 9:02 am, the groaning, wheezing sound echoed throughout the Hub.

The Doctor stepped out, a remnant of the Oncoming Storm lingering in his eyes. Amy was subdued. Without a word, the Doctor strode straight to the Dreamer and embraced her tightly, burying his head in her hair. “Daleks,” she said softly. He nodded, then backed away.

“So,” he said with forced cheerfulness. “What’s happening here?”

“Something’s wrong with the children. At 8:40 am GMT all the children of Earth just stopped. Look at this data,” the Dreamer said, leading him over towards the computer Gwen was at. “On top of that, I felt something. Some sort of telepathic broadcast. It coincided perfectly with the children.”

“You’re right. He’s back,” Ianto said suddenly. Jack burst into laughter.

“Ha, ha! I said so,” he said, smirking.

“Who’s back?” Gwen asked curiously. The Dreamer ignored the three Torchwood agents as she turned to the Doctor and their companion.

“So, Daleks,” the Dreamer asked. The Doctor nodded darkly.

“Yes. They found a progenitor device. Then, they built a cyborg with an Oblivion Continuum inside him and forced me to choose between saving the earth and destroying my greatest enemy once and for all. I had to choose the earth.”

“An Oblivion Continuum?” the Dreamer asked, horrified. The Doctor nodded. “Where did they get one of those? And how did they escape the Crucible?”

Amy snorted. “That’s exactly how the Doctor reacted, well that bit about the Crucible. What is the Crucible?” The Doctor ignored her.

“They were from the Game Station,” he said quietly. The Dreamer hissed angrily. The Doctor pressed a kiss to her forehead and held her tightly. Behind them, Jack swore.

“They’re doing it again,” he told the two Time Lords. “The children. Let’s go.”

“We are coming. We are coming. We are coming.” The children echoed the phrase over and over again. The Dreamer pressed her hands to her ears, knowing that it wouldn’t block out the noise in her mind, but trying anyway. The Doctor looked at her with a frown.

“I was always a strong telepath, but after absorbing the Heart of the TARDIS my telepathic abilities were enhanced,” the Dreamer explained. “I can hear the words in my mind. It’s some sort of link.”

The Doctor grabbed her hand as they hurried back to the Hub. Once inside, Jack rushed to the phone and began to dial a number. “The Home Office,” he explained. They listened to his side of the conversation.

“I need to talk to Frobisher.”

“Just tell him it’s Captain Jack Harkness, he’ll take the call.”

“Tell him it’s Torchwood.”

“You’re working for the Home Office and you’ve never heard of Torchwood?”

“Just what I need. Picked a hell of a day. Listen, just tell him Torchwood. W O O D. We might be able to help, okay? What was your name?”

“Good luck to you, Lois Habiba.”

Jack hung up the phone, grimacing. “So, it’s a transmission, a pulse, a broadcast. Something that only the kids can hear.”

“Like a mosquito alarm?” Ianto ventured. Gwen cut him off.

“Oh, no no no. We’re all being dumbos here, missing the bleedin’ obvious.” The Dreamer looked over her shoulder at the computer. “Look at this. Recorded in Taiwan. Notice anything?”

“They’re speaking English,” the Dreamer stated at the same time as Jack. “Why?”

“Well, I guess if you scanned the Earth from the outside English would register as the dominant language,” Jack postulated.

“Actually, no. That would be Chinese. Well, Mandarin,” Ianto interjected. Suddenly, Gwen sucked in a breath.

“Okay, look. So, every child in the world is talking in unison, right?”

“Right,” the Doctor answered. “What’s that?” he asked, looking over Gwen’s shoulder at the computer.

“Every child, and one man. Name’s Timothy White. He’s a patient in a psychiatric ward at the Duke of York hospital, East Grinstead.”

“East Grinstead, that’s what, two hours?” Jack asked. Gwen nodded.

“Right, I’m on it. See you.”

Ianto left a few minutes later to try and see if he could find a kid to trace the telepathic frequencies backwards. The Doctor disappeared into the TARDIS, muttering about using her equipment to try and find the source of the telepathic broadcast, leaving the Dreamer alone with Jack. He wasted no time in getting her to talk. 

“So, Rosie, you’ve got to tell me. I’m dying to know. How is he in bed?” The Dreamer looked away and stared fixedly at the ground.

“I don’t know,” she muttered, not looking up. Jack frowned. She may have changed her face, but he knew Rose quite well, and he recognized that look.

“We are having some tea, and you’re going to talk to me. I don’t know what’s wrong, but I intend to find out.” The Dreamer followed Jack over to a table, where they sat down and sipped on tea. “So. Spill.”

The Dreamer hesitated, then finally said, “It’s all so complicated. I don’t know anything. I’ve hardly been here twenty hours and there’s been no sitting still. We had a moment; exchanged memories and such, and I tried to talk to him, but…”

“But what, Rosie? Twenty hours is plenty of time to do some dancing,” he said with a wink and a rogue grin. “By the way, I love the fiery redhead look.”

“Goddammit, now is not the time for flirting, Jack!” the Dreamer snapped. She sighed, rubbing a hand over her face. “Sorry. I just… I don’t know if he still–well, if he still wants me to be anything other than a friend. I’m not Rose, never will be again, and I’m certainly not the same as I was when he knew me back on Gallifrey.”

“What do you mean? You may not be a human anymore, but you are still Rose Tyler. Can you really not see it? All the things that made Rose are in you, because you are her. Still my Rosie. And if you think the Doctor doesn’t want you, you are sorely mistaken. Rule Number One for you was always don’t wander off, but for me? Hands off the blonde. You may be ginger now, but the rule still stands. I’m curious, though; how are you different from when he knew you before?”

“I fought in the Time War.”

Jack paled slightly. 

“On the front lines. Rassilon, the screams. They still haunt me even now. I remember burning entire planets just to kill a handful of Daleks. And I didn’t care. I’m so dark, Jack, I can’t believe you aren’t running. Well, I can. You may be the only other person who would understand.”

“There’s two people who would understand you, Rosie. Me–and the Time Lord that definitely still loves you. Oh, Rosie…” Jack broke off and suddenly opened his arms. “Come here.” The Dreamer fell eagerly into his embrace. After she finally got control of herself, she backed away.

“We’ll have to stop running eventually.” She was silent a moment. “I better go rescue Amy. Thanks for the tea, Jack.” The immortal man smiled brightly. At that moment, Ianto returned to the Hub, grumbling about losing the car.

Inside the TARDIS, Amy was sitting on the jump seat while the Doctor grumbled under his breath and stared fixedly at the monitor. “Hey, Amy,” the Dreamer said with a smile.

“Hey. So, who’re these people? I haven’t been introduced,” the Scottish ginger said pointedly.

“Rassilon, sorry Amy. Come on, leave the Doctor to his muttering.” The two girls exited the TARDIS. “That is Captain Jack Harkness, and that is Ianto Jones. Jack is an old friend of mine. Met him in the London Blitz, and he traveled with us for a while. He’s got a bit of an immortality problem,” she added. Amy frowned.

“Immortality?”

“I’m a fixed point in Time and Space. I die, I come back to life. It’s forever,” Jack answered. Amy was still looking confused, so the Dreamer tried to explain it better.

“A long time ago, the Doctor was facing Daleks, and he sent me and the TARDIS away. I didn’t like it. I did something very stupid: I opened the Heart of the TARDIS and absorbed the Time Vortex while trying to get back to him. I called myself the Bad Wolf; I’m still the Wolf if I try. The Goddess of Time. I created myself to save the Doctor. Wiped out the Daleks with a wave of my hand, turned them all to dust. But Jack was dead, and I didn’t want him to be dead, so I brought him back to life. Only, I couldn’t control it, and I brought him back forever.”

“Wow,” Amy said. At that moment, Jack frowned.

“I’ll be back. We still need a kid. Gonna go to that hospital, talk to the doctor guy. Maybe he can get us a kid to use. Yan, keep an eye on the girls please?” Ianto nodded and gave Jack a quick kiss. The Dreamer smiled to see the two of them. The phone rang as Jack was headed out. Ianto answered it, listened to what was said.

“Yep,” he said, entering something into his computer. “I lost the car. These kids nicked it.” He continued to type, refining his search options, then hung up the phone. The Dreamer looked curiously over his shoulder.

“Clement MacDonald, Holly Tree, Scotland, 1960s. Would that happen to be the mysterious Timothy White?” Ianto nodded. 

“Result. There was a Holly Tree Lodge just outside Arbroath. It's a hotel now, but up until 1965, it was a state-run orphanage. And they had a Clement MacDonald. He was taken into care, April 1965, after his mother died. No father on record. In November 1965, he was transferred, along with. Oh.”

Jack walked in a moment later. There was blood on his shirt. “We need damage control at Saint Helen’s. One body, Doctor Rupesh Pantanjali, shot in the back.”

“What happened?” Amy asked curiously.

“I don’t know. He was just left there right beside me, like someone’s gloating.”

“Did they kill you?” Ianto asked.

“Yeah. Maybe we’re being targeted. Better tell Gwen.”

“She’s back, in the lab.” Jack went back to the lab. The Dreamer followed him, trailed by Amy.

“Boy, have I had a day,” Jack declared. Then he saw the blinking light in Gwen’s uterus. “Oh, my God. Is that? How long?”

“Three weeks,” Gwen said shakily.

“That’s good, isn’t it? From where I’m standing it looks good.”

“It is. It’s bloody brilliant.” The Dreamer laughed at the stunned look on Gwen’s face, watching as it turned into a bright smile.

“Have you told Rhys?”

“No, only just found out myself.”

“You told me before you told him. He’s gonna love that,” Jack remarked.

“That is so bloody spectacular. But what about this place, and my job?”

“We’ll figure it out. We always do. Ianto, we’re having a baby!”

Jack reached out to put his hand over Gwen’s. That was when the world fell to pieces.

**Decided to cut it there. Yeah, I know, not much left in day one, but the next chapter will be day two with some explanations as to the end of day one. Also, yes, Jack is helping the Dreamer out a bit. We will learn more about her fighting in the Time War (and more about her past in general) soon. Please review! Thanks to all reviewers, and favoriters!**


	11. Children of Earth-Day Two

**A/N: Part two of Children of Earth. This will be a bit AU (the whole arc, I mean, not just this chapter) but I haven’t decided how much yet. You’ll just have to read to find out.  
** Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who or Torchwood.  
Children of Earth—Day Two  
The Dreamer struggled to keep Ianto from rushing out of the TARDIS. “He’ll come back, Ianto, I promise. Whomever is trying to kill you will certainly take him hostage when he comes back, but we can go get him out. Alright?” The Welshman nodded slowly and the Dreamer let go. The events just previous flashed through her mind.  
_The computer blared a red alert and everyone stared, frozen, at the bomb in Jack’s stomach. “Shit,” the Captain said. “Out, everyone out!”_  
“To the TARDIS,” the Dreamer added. “Someone’s targeting Torchwood and you won’t get very far away before it blows. I’m sure they’ve got snipers around the perimeter. Jack, I’m so sorry, but you’ll have to resurrect in custody, most likely. We’ll come for you, I promise. Now, out, out, out!”  
The TARDIS had barely had time to dematerialize when the Hub exploded, leaving a massive crater in its place. “My husband,” Gwen exclaimed. “We’ve got to get Rhys. If we’re being targeted, then they’ll go for him.”  
The Doctor set the coordinates and materialized in the bedroom at the same second as the Hub went off. It was a bit dangerous, being in two places at the same time, but the Doctor knew that they would need the extra time. “We can say in the TARDIS for the moment, but we can’t hide in Cardiff forever, and we can’t stay in the Vortex if we want to figure out what’s going on with the children.”  
Outside, they could hear Gwen urging her husband to hurry. At last, the couple entered. “It—it’s” Rhys started.  
“Bigger on the inside?” the Dreamer asked with a smile. The shock of a first-timer never got old, even in life—and—death circumstances. She hurried to help the Doctor with the dematerialization sequence. It was imperative that whomever was after Torchwood didn’t know that the Doctor was here, and the sight of a Police Public Call Box in a bedroom would be a dead giveaway.  
The Dreamer frowned as she considered who would be trying to kill Torchwood. Why would someone want to get rid of the only real people who could help? Oh. She swore softly in Gallifreyan as it dawned on her. The Doctor looked at her questioningly. “I was just wondering why Torchwood would be a target when the children are being subjugated by a telepathic signal. I realized it is precisely because the children are being subjugated by a telepathic signal. The children said something, I heard it. They said, ‘We are coming back.’ So whomever is transmitting that signal has been here before. Torchwood is taken out as a cover-up. I wonder if Jack was involved previously?”  
The Doctor glanced over at her, astonished. “That… Arkytior, you are absolutely brilliant,” he exclaimed, stepping around the console to give her a quick hug and press a kiss to her hair. “Absolutely brilliant.”  
“Soo…” Gwen started, dragging the word out. “Can I have a moment with Rhys?”  
The Dreamer grinned, catching the tip of her tongue between her teeth (who knew she could still smile like that; it was a characteristic in all three of her regenerations, apparently) as she remembered the lab. “’Course you can, Gwen. Just go down the corridor there, the Old Girl should have a room for you two,” she said, sounding far more like her old self than she had since regenerating. A quick glance over at the Doctor showed that he had noticed that, but he didn’t comment.  
“So, what are we going to do? What about Jack?” Amy asked. “He’s very, ah, kind,” she stammered out, flushing as red as her hair. The Doctor grinned and shook his head.  
“We’ll go get him, in the morning. Right now, you humans need your sleep. I want to do some planning before we just try and jump in. We also need a base of operations that is somewhere other than the Vortex; I’m hoping Jack can help with that.” The Doctor ran a hand through his hair.  
The Dreamer sighed and turned to Ianto. “You two, come on. To bed. We’ll land ourselves in the morning; can’t exactly skip time since we’re part of established events now, and anyways, we need to keep an eye on what’s going on.”  
XXX  
_We are coming tomorrow._  
That was the most recent message from whoever was enslaving the children’s thoughts. “That gives us the rest of today to figure out how to rescue Jack and pull it off. Hopefully he knows more about the children than we do,” the Dreamer said. She felt more like her old self again today. The Time Lady wondered if Jack had something to do with it. And speaking of Jack…  
“I believe we can get Jack out later today, but first I think we should make some calls, figure out exactly who is targeting Torchwood. It’s probably not a good idea to let them know that we’re here either, until the end,” the Dreamer said. The Doctor nodded in agreement. “We need to meet with the government. Who was it that Jack was calling yesterday?”  
“John Frobisher. He works at the Home Office,” Ianto stated. “I have the phone number for him.”  
Gwen pulled out her phone. “I’ll call them. I can set up a meeting, maybe take the Dreamer with me, while you guys rescue Jack. Then we can meet somewhere.” She dialed the Home Office number and proceeded to have a quick conversation with the secretary on the other end of the line. After arrangements were made to pick the two women up, the Doctor landed the TARDIS in an alleyway near a chippy in London.  
The Dreamer glanced back briefly at the noise of the TARDIS dematerializing, then followed Gwen to the chippy. A young, dark skinned woman sat at a table with four chairs around it, looking about nervously. She was clutching a bag to her chest. The Dreamer stepped over to her. “I’m the Dreamer, and this is Gwen Cooper. We’re from Torchwood, well, she is.”  
The young woman smiled. “My name is Lois. Lois Habiba.”  
Gwen frowned. “Where’s Frobisher?”  
Lois shifted uncomfortably. “This is probably the stupidest thing I’ve ever done, but… he’s not coming.”  
“Why not?” Gwen demanded.  
“I’ve read your files. My god, the things you’ve done, you’re like unsung national heroes.”  
Gwen gritted her teeth. “Listen, I don’t do autographs, and I don’t mean to be rude, but why am I talking to you and not your boss?”  
“Because if he knew you were here you’d be dead,” Lois said simply. The Dreamer sucked in a sharp breath.  
“That’s a pretty good reason… so it is the government who is after us,” the Dreamer stated.  
“He gave the order to have Jack Harkness killed,” Lois added. Gwen paled.  
“My god, we really are in trouble,” she murmured. The Dreamer shook her head.  
“You’ve got the Doctor on your side, Gwen. It’s the people behind all of this that are in trouble.”  
“Do you know a Captain Andrew Staines?” Lois asked.  
“No,” Gwen stated.  
“A Colonel Michael Sanders? Ellen Hunt?”  
“No.”  
“They were all killed on the same day as Harkness.” The Dreamer frowned.  
“A cover-up, it must be,” the Dreamer muttered. “They must’ve been the people involved the last time whoever is speaking through the children was here.”  
Lois nodded. “That makes sense. I didn’t sign the Official Secrets Act to cover up murder. But then again, I didn’t sign it to commit treason on my second day, either. What am I doing here?”  
“You tell me,” Gwen said.  
“If you’re the bad guys, why doesn’t it say that on your file? And if you’re the good guys, why does the government want you dead?”  
Gwen shook her head. “That’s something you have to decide for yourself.”  
“I’m here, aren’t I?” Lois laughed humourlessly. “Everyone in the office seems to think that what’s happening with the children has to do with aliens. And that they’ll be here tomorrow. And they’re building something big on the top floor of the MI5 building.”  
“Ok, what are they building?” Gwen asked.  
“I don’t know. But it’s like they’re getting ready. And if you lot, Torchwood, are the alien experts, and there are aliens coming tomorrow, why does Mr. Frobisher want you out of the way?”  
“I’ve no idea, but I’m going to find out,” Gwen said.  
Lois turned to the Dreamer. “You said that you aren’t Torchwood. Who are you and what are you doing here?”  
“My name is the Dreamer. I’m a friend of the Doctor’s. Same species as him. Smarter, and more domestic,” she added with a tongue-touched grin. Gwen and Lois both looked a bit confused and she shook her head. “You can call me Rose, if you’d like. That’s what my Gallifreyan nickname translates to.”  
Lois frowned. “Can I trust the Doctor?”  
The Dreamer sighed. “Listen, do you remember the ship that crashed into the Thames a few years ago? Followed by 10 Downing Street being blown up by a missile?”  
“Yeah. What’s that got to do with anything?”  
“You’ll see. Remember the Sycroax? Big ship, everybody standing on rooftops?”  
“Yeah.”  
The Dreamer swallowed and forced the words out around the block in her throat. “Canary Warf? How about the twenty-seven planets in the sky? Daleks?”  
Lois frowned. “Yes, all of these are alien attacks. What’s the point?”  
“Those are just the stuff that the Doctor fixed when I traveled with him several years ago. He’s saved the Earth more times than you can count, and he never gets thanked, never is known. So, you tell me, can you trust the Doctor?”  
Lois stared. Gwen took advantage of the silence to ask Lois a question. “Do you know where they’ve taken Captain Jack Harkness?”  
Lois nodded. “I’ve got the floor plans in my bag. It’s, er, a military compound.” She pulled the documents out of her bag.  
“This is brilliant work, Lois,” Gwen said. Lois smiled.  
“Alright, we need to meet up with the Doctor,” the Dreamer interjected. “I’ll get Jack out. Don’t tell the Doctor, please, Gwen, as he’ll shout me into my next regeneration. Lois, keep an ear out for us. And look up the Doctor, using UNIT resources.”  
Lois nodded. “I will. I wish you luck.”  
The Dreamer smiled and with Gwen exited the chippy. Gwen strode towards the alley where the TARDIS was due to materialize, while the Dreamer headed to a small alcove where she would be hidden from view. She concentrated a moment, bringing the Wolf to the forefront of her mind. She focused until she found Jack, then she bent the Vortex to take her there. The world turned gold around her as she dissolved into a swirl of golden particles.  
The Dreamer landed in Jack’s cell. The immortal man was fully formed, naked, and handcuffed to the wall. The handcuffs dissolved into dust with a wave of her hand. “Come on,” the Dreamer said, her voice echoing with the dual-toned sound that indicated the Wolf was awake. She guessed that her eyes were glowing gold as well. Jack leapt to his feet and the Dreamer grabbed him tightly before moving them through the Vortex to where the TARDIS was.  
“Where is the Dreamer?” the Doctor was shouting. Gwen sighed.  
“I told you, she said not to tell you—“  
The Dreamer cut her off. “Until I got back. With Jack. Sorry to leave you at the mercy of the Oncoming Storm, Gwen.” She noticed that her voice was still dual-toned and frowned, working on sending the Wolf back into the recesses of her mind. The Doctor’s head whipped up and he turned to see the Dreamer being supported by a stark naked Jack.  
“What?”  
The Dreamer opened her eyes. She could still feel the Time Vortex rushing through her body and she took a deep breath. “I went to get Jack,” she said. The Wolf still lingered in her voice and the Dreamer frowned. “Sorry,” she added in a normal voice. “I think I’m going to sleep now,” she said before collapsing against Jack. The Doctor picked her up and entered the TARDIS followed by the rest of the group.  
_We are coming._  
Tomorrow.  
**And that’s the end of Day Two! Thanks to all reviewers, followers, and favoriters; you guys are the reason I spend so much time working on this story. We are starting to get to the fun part, now.**


	12. Children of Earth-Day Three

**A/N: My God, this arc is so much more difficult to write than I thought it would be. We start off this chapter with the Doctor getting a good talking-to from Jack, then we get into the story. Also, huge thanks to livinglittlelie (on ff.net), who is an awesome conversation-writer and has been helping me make my conversations more in character and deeper.**

**Disclaimer: I don’t own Doctor Who or Torchwood.**

Children of Earth–Day Three

“Alright, everybody off to bed. I need to talk to the Doctor, alone,” Jack ordered. The Doctor frowned, uncertain. As soon as everyone had left the console room, Jack turned on the Time Lord.

“Alright, time to stop running. Answer me one question, just one: do you love Rose?”

The Doctor gaped at him. “I don’t see how that is any of your business.”

“You’ve been running from her ever since she got back. She doesn’t think that you’re interested in her any longer. So tell mw, Doctor, do you love Rose Tyler?”

“Her name isn’t Rose Tyler.”

“I don’t care. Answer the question.”

“Yes.”

“Then why the bloody hell are you running away from her?”

“Because I’m scared. I’m afraid I’ll lose her, and if I get too close–“

“No. That was the reason you never approached her when she was human, and I could understand it a bit back then, but now? You know, she doesn’t think that she’s good enough for you anymore.”

“What?”

“She said that she fought in the Time War. Our Rose thinks that she is too dark for you to still want her.”

“I didn’t know…”

“I think that you and her need to have a serious discussion, Doctor. Then, bloody hell, it’s about time you started shagging her. I like the new body, by the way, Doctor. Do you need any help… test-driving it?”

The Doctor froze. “I–what? No! No, no no,” he kept backing up until he tripped over his own feet. “No.” he said firmly.

Jack laughed. “You sure? Someone’s got to make sure that this model is road-worthy,” he said with a wink. The Doctor’s mouth worked, but no words came out. A light, easy laugh came from the hallway.

“Jack, you can’t just proposition the Doctor every time you two get left alone for a few minutes,” the Dreamer said as she stepped inside the console room. She still looked tired, but there was no way she was going to try and sleep.

“Why not? Eventually he’ll say yes,” Jack said.

“In your dreams, Harkness,” the Doctor snarked.

“Anyway. There’s an old warehouse that used to be a Torchwood holding facility for Torchwood One. It was abandoned in the nineties. We can land there and make it our base of operations,” Jack said. “Let’s all get some sleep before we land, though. Won’t do us any good if we can’t think because we’re so tired.” With that, the Captain headed down the hallway to his bedroom. “Oh, and we need a laptop,” Jack said, popping his head back out. “Also, mind fixing my manipulator?” Jack pulled the strap off his wrist and tossed it to the Doctor before turning back down the hallway.

The two Time Lords spent the time that the humans were sleeping to steal a top-of-the-line laptop, fix Jack’s Vortex Manipulator, and get the warehouse wired up for electricity. By the time Amy and the Torchwood team were awake, everything was ready.

“Ianto, have you still got the Eye 5 software?” Gwen asked. Ianto nodded. She grinned. “Good, download it onto the laptop. Because these aren’t just contact lenses. They’re Torchwood contact lenses, and we need to get inside Whitehall.”

“But who’s gonna wear them?” Ianto asked.

“Well, there’s only one person still talking to us.” 

The Dreamer grinned. “I can use the TARDIS equipment to find Lois’ phone number, and the Old Girl can emit a pulse that will keep the authorities from tracking the call. Gwen and I will try and convince Lois to help us again.”

XXX

“Hello?” Lois’ voice came over the phone. The Dreamer grinned at Gwen.

“Can you meet us at the chippy we spoke at yesterday?”

“How did you get this number?” Lois asked.

“We’ve got good technology. Listen, please don’t hang up. Give us five minutes, just five minutes.”

“Ok.”

A few moments later the three women were sitting at a table in the corner. “I’ve helped you once, and that’s enough. If anyone finds out about this, it’s treason. Literally treason. Offences like this can be tried without a jury!” Lois said accusingly, although she had the presence of mind to keep her voice low.

“I know, Lois, I know. But, listen, after this is over and we’ve fixed it, we’ll get you cleared. If they can even press charges,” the Dreamer said.

“I’m sorry, but you said they’re building something in Thames House and we need to find out what it is,” Gwen added.

“That’s the most secure building in the whole country. How am I supposed to smuggle you in?”

“You don’t have to,” Gwen told her. “You just keep your eyes open, like this.”

Gwen opened the laptop and turned it to face Lois. The Eye 5 software was active, and Gwen had the contact lenses in her eyes.

“But where’s that coming from? That’s not a webcam, that’s you,” Lois said, confused.

The Dreamer grinned. “Pretty cool, eh? It’s called Eye 5. You just put the contact lenses in, and it transmits everything you see.”

“More than that, we have lip-reading software so that we can hear everything said as long as we can see lips,” Gwen continued. “And we can send messages to you. Just type on the keyboard and the message appears on the contacts.”

“If you wear these, we can find out what’s going on, then we can help,” the Dreamer said. “And don’t worry about scanning for bugs. The lenses don’t register. Not on the primitive scanners that you’ll be subjected to.”

“Giving you information’s one thing, but you’re putting me right on the front line,” Lois said. The Dreamer could see the fear in her eyes.

“You’re the only friend we’ve got left, Lois,” Gwen said.

“I can’t get into floor thirteen. That’s where they’re building whatever it is.”

“You have to find a way. Please, Lois.”

“If I’m caught, they can do anything to me,” Lois said as Gwen pulled out the contact lenses and placed them in the case.

“Lois, if they still want to press charges against you after we save the world, the Doctor and I have friends that can help. Torchwood or UNIT would probably be willing to shelter you, and we have the tech to be able to hack into your records and wipe them if necessary. If all else fails, we can take you on the TARDIS and find somewhere for you,” the Dreamer said. Lois took a deep breath. “We can’t do this without you. Right now, you, Lois, are the most important person in the world. It’s all on you.” 

Lois lifted her head and straightened her shoulders. “All right,” she said determinedly. “Give me the contacts before I change my mind.” Gwen grinned and handed the case over.

“Thank you so much, Lois,” she said. The Dreamer rose and Gwen followed her out of the chippy.

Gwen’s phone rang. “Hello?” She paused for a moment, listening. “We gave her the contacts, and she’s agreed to do it. Although, if the Dreamer hadn’t been here I don’t think she would’ve.” She listened another moment. “Bloody hell. Anything else you want while we’re out?” A moment later, she hung up the phone. “That was Jack. He’s got a new mission for us. We need to go to the Camden police station. Clem’s been arrested for theft and minor affray.”

“Clem, that’s Clement MacDonald, the adult that was talking with the children?” the Dreamer confirmed.

“Yeah,” Gwen said. “Jack said that between me having once been a policewoman, and you being a big, bad wolf–not sure what he meant by that, exactly–we should be able to get him out.”

The Dreamer snorted. “He’s probably right, although my way may not be the best way if we’re trying to keep quiet. I’ll get some money for the bus fare.”

XXX

Back at the Hub, Jack, Ianto, and the Doctor were gathered around the TARDIS computer. “Jack,” the Doctor began, “there were three other people killed on the same day as you. Andrew Staines, Ellen Hunt, and Michael Sanders. Arkytior said that it looked like some sort of a cover-up, especially since the children said ‘We are coming back’.” He took a deep breath and his hands tightened on the screen.

Jack recognized the ticks for what they were–worry. He’d used his old nickname for Rose when she wasn’t even around, and he was clenching his teeth and shifting from foot to foot. “She’ll be alright, Doc,” Jack reassured. “So what’s Clem’s story?”

Ianto sighed. “Ah, well, according to Gwen, it was your basic alien abduction, back when he was a kid. 1965. He was living about ten miles outside Arbroath, the Holly Tree Lodge, it was an orphanage. The kids were taken away in November 1965. The lodge was closing down, and the kids were supposed to be taken to a secondary care home. These twelve kids were going to Harbouring Heights, in Plymouth, but they never got there. The paperwork trail just stops.”

Jack was pale. “Twelve children, in November 1965? Show me those people, the ones killed at the same time as me. Their history. Show me them forty years ago.”

The Doctor complied. Jack stared at their faces. “I never knew their names,” he whispered.

“How do you know them, Jack?” Ianto asked. Jack didn’t answer, just grabbed his greatcoat off of a coral strut and ran out of the TARDIS. “Jack?”

XXX

The Dreamer gasped as she felt the telepathic broadcast hit her mind. She closed her eyes, feeling a sudden, overwhelming need to point towards the Thames House. Her shielding was strong, but this broadcast was immensely powerful. Instinctively, she reached to the part of her mind where the Time Lords had resided. The Doctor was the only presence there, and she seized ahold of his mind.

_Help me, please._

_Arkytior?_

_It’s them. They want to point, at the Thames House. Rassilon, that’s powerful._

The Doctor cursed colorfully in Gallifreyan. Ianto looked at him questioningly. “They’re back. Pointing at the Thames House, where the lovely Lois Habiba informed us that something is being built.” The two men, followed by Rhys, ran to the roof of the warehouse to see a pillar of fire over the Thames.

_We are here. Theta, they’re here._

Abruptly, the Dreamer’ mental presence vanished from the Doctor’s mind. He ran a hand through his hair worriedly, then turned to hurry back to the TARDIS.

Back on the streets of London, the Dreamer looked around. “We’ll never get anywhere like this. Rassilon, I’m taking the manipulator next time. Alright, both of you, grab my arms. This is probably not going to be comfortable.” She sighed, closing her eyes, and the three vanished in swirls of gold light, taken into the Time Vortex. 

XXX

It was evening before Jack came back. Clem was terrified and ran, but Gwen went after him and managed to convince the poor man to come back. The eight people stepped inside the TARDIS and sat around the table in the galley, nursing mugs of tea.

“Where’d you run off to?” the Dreamer asked. After berating her for using the Time Vortex for travel, the Doctor had brought her up to speed. “Jack, what are you hiding?”

The immortal ex-con looked sadly at her. “They’re called the 456. The aliens. They were here in 1965.” He was about to say more, but there was an alert from Gwen’s stolen laptop.

“Lenses active! Good girl, Lois,” she exclaimed. The group huddled around the computer, watching. Gwen typed ‘thank you’ on the screen, and Lois smiled at the mirror.

Lois got in the lift with Frobisher, then followed him into the room. She grabbed a notebook and a pen. In the front of the room was a large tank filled with some sort of gas. Frobisher stepped to the front of the room and began to talk. 

‘Need his mouth’ Gwen typed. Lois slowly began to move around the room.

“And according to the rules of protocol as established by 1968, that which we established by the United Nations–“

His voice was lost as Rhys teased Gwen about sending a smiley face. “Hush,” the Dreamer snapped, concentrating.

“I must ask whether these greetings are accepted.” Frobisher was silent for a long moment, then: “Do you understand me?”

“I repeat,” he continued, “according to the rules of protocol as established by the United Nations–“

“Then I thank you on behalf of the United Kingdom, the Russian Federation, the Commonwealth of Australia, the provinces and territories of Canada, Japan, and the Hellenic Republic, the Islamic Republic of Iraq and the Republic of Iran–“

“Did it speak?” Rhys asked.

“It doesn’t have a mouth,” Amy interjected. “The lip reading software doesn’t work on speakers.”

At that moment, Lois drew a strange symbol on the notepad. “What is that?” the Dreamer asked.

“It’s shorthand,” Ianto said. “I can read it. It says, ‘Yes’.”

The 456 thrashed and splattered against the glass. “What’s it doing?” Ianto said, reading the notepad.

‘I don’t know,’ Gwen typed.

“I’m sorry, I can’t help being concerned, is there a problem?” Frobisher asked. “Would you like me to continue?”

“Yes,” Ianto said.

“Right, then, in the spirit of co-operation, we have a formal request to make. We ask that you do not use our children for communication, in case certain parties or territories see that as a violation. Is that acceptable?”

“Yes,” Ianto read.

“Thank you,” Frobisher said. “And as a gift, as a welcome to this world, we have prepared a document summarizing our culture and history. This document can be made available to you immediately, though the format remains undecided. Said format remains of your choosing, though this does not constitute a request for information on, or access to, specific 456 technology.” An aide stepped forward and handed Frobisher a note. “I have been given a request for specific information. It has been asked why the 456 chose Great Britain as their specific point of embarkation.”

“We came here,” Ianto read.

“Because?” Amy asked.

“That’s all it said,” Ianto told her.

“You have no significance. You are middle men,” Ianto read off the paper.

“That’s a lie, because it’s been here before,” Gwen stated. “That’s why it’s here now.”

“It’s Frobisher. He’s got that thing to lie. Whatever happened in the past, they’re hiding it,” Ianto said. Writing on the paper caught his attention and he frowned. “We have a request,” he read off. The people gathered around the laptop looked around nervously. The Dreamer noticed that Jack was standing off to the side, his head bowed.

“By all means,” Frobisher said.

“We want a gift,” Ianto read. “That can’t be good.”

“Of course. But what nature of gift exactly?” Frobisher asked. He looked slightly pale. “A gift? Gladly. But what do you want?”

Ianto sucked in a harsh, jagged breath. “We want your children,” he said in a hoarse whisper. “We will take your children.”

The Doctor’s head whipped up and he stared at Ianto. “What do they want with children?” he asked. “That can’t be right.”

Frobisher apparently thought the same. “I’m sorry, there appears to be a problem with the translation. By children you mean–“

“Your descendants,” Ianto read. Lois’ hand was shaking as she drew. “The offspring of the human race.”

“How many?” John Frobisher asked.

“Ten percent. We want ten percent. We want ten percent of the children of this world.”

Jack lifted his head. “Try covering that up, you bastards,” he snarled at the screen.

“Jack!” the Dreamer exclaimed. A thought occurred to her. “Rassilon, Jack, what happened last time they were here?”

“I gave them twelve children. As a gift. And so you all know, I have a daughter and a grandson and Frobisher had them taken into custody.”

The TARDIS was silent. “They are not going to get a single child,” the Doctor said suddenly. His voice was cold and dark. “Not even if I have to stop them myself. The children of Earth are sacred.” He looked as though he was trying to deliver an ultimatum to the 456 himself. “You give them one single, solitary child, and you will be facing the wrath of the Oncoming Storm.”

**Sorry for the slightly awkward ending, but I didn’t know where to cut it. I haven’t changed too much at this point, but I will be making it more AU in the next chapters. Thanks to all reviewers, favoriters, and followers! Until next time.**


	13. Children of Earth-Day Four

**A/N: Yay, only two more chapters of CoE left! I’m excited to move past this arc, as I’m starting to get frustrated with this. So, there may be some canon inconsistencies with things such as telepathic interferences (you’ll see what I mean) but please just accept them.**

**Disclaimer: I don’t own Doctor Who or Torchwood.**

Children of Earth–Day Four

“You just gave them twelve children,” Amy said disbelievingly. “Why would you do that?”

Jack sighed. “I’m old, Amy Pond, far older than I look. Back then, Torchwood was basically forcing me to work for them. And the 456 predicted an epidemic of Indonesian Flu, that could kill over twenty-five million people. They gave us the cure in exchange for the children. All these years, the only consolation was that the deal seemed to work.”

The resumption of the meeting with the 456 distracted them. “Hello again,” the computer said, relaying John Frobisher’s words. “Before we consider your request, I've been asked for a point of clarification. Before we even discuss your, your request, we need to know exactly what it is you intend to do with the children.”

“They’re actually considering giving them the children?” Amy exclaimed. “I don’t believe it!”

“Somebody is watching,” Ianto read.

“It knows I’m here, shut it off, shut it off!” Clem cried nervously.

“It’s talking about the other camera, it doesn’t know about us. Hush,” Gwen said distractedly.

“The Prime Minister, the leader of this country, the United Kingdom, is watching through this camera here, and he needs to know what would happen to our children if we were to hand them over to us,” Frobisher said. 

“Is it off the record,” Ianto read. The Dreamer sighed.

“Yet another cover-up,” she muttered.

“Yes,” Frobisher stated.

“Come in,” the 456 responded.

“In there?” Frobisher asked. Though the computer voice showed no emotions, there was a clearly skeptical look on the man’s face.

“Come in. With your camera,” Ianto read. A cameraman put on a hazmat suit and stepped inside the tank. He followed a line to–

“Is that a child?” Amy asked, horrified. The Dreamer could only stare. It was a child, yet horribly mutated and wearing some sort of mask. There were cables leading from the child to the 456.

“Rassilon,” the Dreamer whispered. The Doctor said nothing, but when she looked over at him, she could see the Storm rising in his eyes. The Dreamer reached out and put her hand on his shoulder.

“No, no, no, no, no,” Clem muttered.

“It’s one of the kids from 1965,” Gwen said softly.

“Do you think it’s conscious?” Rhys asked. The bald child blinked its huge eyes, answering that question. Then, the camera blurred.

“What’s happening?” Ianto asked.

“It’s Lois,” the Doctor said. “She’s crying.” It was the first thing he had said since finding out why the 456 had come.

“What have you done to him?” Frobisher asked. The 456 began to throw a fit, splattering the camera with green slime. As they struggled to get the cameraman out, the 456 began to speak.

“It would ensure the smooth running of diplomatic relations,” Ianto read out, “between Earth and the 456 if that previous encounter was kept off the record. By off the record I mean private.”

“This is unacceptable,” Frobisher said.

“We do not harm the children. They feel no pain. They live long beyond their years,” Ianto read. Lois’ hand was shaking as she wrote.

“Well, that’s ok then,” Amy snapped sarcastically. 

“But we still don’t know. What does it do with them? What does it want them for?” Jack asked.

“Bit late to ask now,” Rhys said with a slight edge to his tone.

“We have answered your question. You have one day to select and deliver your ten percent,” Ianto read off.

“And if we refuse?” Frobisher asked.

“We will wipe out your entire species,” Ianto said. “They aren’t kidding around.”

Jack straightened suddenly. “I’ve got to call Frobisher. They can’t trace the call while I’m in the TARDIS, right?” The Dreamer gave a short nod of affirmation.

Jack pulled out his phone and dialed. “Have you thought about what I said?” he asked by way of greeting. There was a pause. “Release my family and we can work together.” Another pause. “I wish I could believe that.” He waited a beat. “It’s the 456, isn’t it? They want more children.” He snorted into the phone. “It doesn’t take a genius. And with them going so public now, I’ll wager they want a lot more. Millions, even. If I have to stop you I’ll tell the world what’s really going on. There’s too much at stake not to,” he finished, hanging up.

Motion on the computer screen caught the Dreamer’s eye. The sign on the door Lois was entering said Cabinet Office Briefing Room A. “COBRA,” she murmured. Gwen lifted her head.

“Where all the emergency planning takes place,” she said. They watched as Lois filed in behind Bridget and Frobisher.

“Gold Command meeting’s about to start,” Ianto said.

“They’ll sell us out, just like they did last time,” Clem said nervously.

In the room, Brian Green, the Prime Minister, began to speak. “Ladies and gentlemen, it has been decided that we are going to make the 456 an offer. A realistic offer, something we can manage, and then see what happens.”

“You mean we’re going to haggle? What about the military option?” another officer, Riley, said.

“There’s nothing to take action against,” the Defense Secretary protested. “Evidently, the 456 must have some sort of base of operations in orbit, but our satellites are showing nothing. Whatever’s up there, it’s beyond our technology.”

“There’s a target sat in the Thames House,” Riley stated.

“Taking that out would be a declaration of war,” the Defense Secretary said.

“A war we can’t win,” the Deputy PM added.

“That’s why I’ve invited John to address Gold Command,” the PM said smoothly. “In terms of managing the figures, what could we get away with? We need to know how many units would be available by tomorrow morning.”

“My God. They’re really going to do it,” Gwen said.

The Dreamer swore colorfully in Gallifreyan. “They’re children, not units, you bastards,” she muttered. “Living, breathing children.”

“It won’t just be Britain, will it?” Riley asked.

“The idea is that every country makes a camouflageable contribution,” the PM said.

“Can you pass me the FAS file, please?” the PM asked Frobisher.

“FAS?” Rhys said. “Now you’re talking.”

“Right, well, er, for a start, there are twenty children in Oakington right now. Twenty-one units. Unaccompanied asylum seekers awaiting deportation,” Frobisher said.

“FAS. Failed asylum seekers. Orphans in 1965, failed asylum seekers now. That’s progress,” Gwen said sarcastically.

“And no one would miss them,” the Deputy PM, Yates, said. “We need more. Can you bump the numbers up to sixty?”

“I think so,” Frobisher said with a tentative nod. “We could have them all in Oakington by tomorrow morning.”

“Thank you, John. Now, go back to the Thames House and consult with the 456. Make them an offer of sixty units, no more.”

“Three, two, five, zero, zero, zero,” Clem started to chant a moment later. The Dreamer sucked in a sharp breath as she felt the number running through her own mind. She reinforced her shields, gritting her teeth.

“I think that means the offer was rejected,” she managed. Everyone but the Doctor looked at her blankly. “325,000. That’s ten percent of the children in the UK.”

“It’s confirmed,” a voice came from the laptop. It was the Deputy PM, Yates. “Three hundred and twenty-five thousand is ten percent of the children, the, er, units, of this country. Each country is saying a different number, which amounts to ten percent of the units in that country.”

“I think that means our offer has been rejected,” Green said.

“It’s worth considering, sir. By 2050 the world’s population will be nine billion. That’s a two and a half billion rise. The UK’ll go from sixty-one to seventy-seven million, every one of them needing food and water, a home, transport, a TV and a fridge.”

“Rick, Rick, Rick, Rick. What are you suggesting, that a cull of ten percent would do us good?”

“I'm just saying, if we need to spin this to the public, and God knows, at the moment, spin is all we can do, then in an age when we're terrified by the planet's dwindling resources, a reduction in the population could possibly, just possibly, if presented in the right way, be seen as good. Sir.”

“He can’t be serious,” Amy scoffed.

“With regrets, ladies and gentlemen, I have to tell you we are now facing the worst possible scenario. And right now, we don’t have time for a discussion on ethics. I’m afraid the hand-wringing will have to wait. All we can do at the moment is to address a number of vital and practical questions,” Green began.

“Namely, how do we select the ten percent? Who would go? How do we transport them, and lastly, how do we sell it to the voters?” Yates said.

“John?” the PM asked.

“Well, the selections not down to me,” Frobisher started.

“Nevertheless, practical solutions, please,” Green ordered. The Dreamer sighed.

“I feel a bit of sympathy for Frobisher. He’s being used to take the fall, here.” Gwen hummed in agreement, her gaze focused on the laptop.

“Once the selection has been made, then my department can arrange to bus all the children to the rendezvous points together, school by school. My staff are compiling various school databases. You just need to decide the criteria you’ll use for selection. Which is not my department. Over to you, sir.”

“Anyone? May I remind you, the clock is ticking,” Green said.

“It would have to be random,” the Defense Secretary said.

“No one would believe it was random,” Riley said, “unless some of us are seen waiting at the gate for empty school busses to return.”

“If the criteria we use is demonstrably fair and entirely random, at least we could defend ourselves,” the Defense Secretary said.

“So you’re willing to risk your own kids to make it look fair?”

“Well, how else are we going to do it?”

“We could do it alphabetically,” Yates suggested.

“Yes, of course, thank you, Mister Yates,” Riley said.

“I didn’t mean–I don’t have any kids–I wasn’t trying to–“

“Yes, no kids and no consequences. And yours are all grown up,”

“Let’s try and keep this civil, Denise,” Green said.

“Oh yes, let’s discuss the loss of millions of innocent children and be civil about it,” she spat.

“If you would, yes.”

“Couldn’t we limit it to one loss per family? Every second-born child?” the Defense Secretary asked.

“That would take more organization, more time. Time we don’t have.”

“Look, I’m going to say what everyone else is thinking. If this lottery takes place, my kids aren’t in it,” Riley said. “I’m sure the families of Gold Command would be exempt anyway. In fact, isn’t that official policy?”

“During a major civil emergency, we’re also dealing with deeply debilitating grief.”

“It’ll be hard enough as it is. I’m right, aren’t I? Our families get protection.”

“Of course they bloody do,” Gwen said with a heavy sigh.

“So, we could have a show of hands,” the Defense Secretary started, “I hate to be crass, but in the circumstances”

“But who votes? Those with kids, those without kids?”

“No one votes. It’s down to me to make an executive decision,” Green stated firmly.

“Do you need some time?” Yates asked.

“No. Whatever happens, the children and grandchildren of the people around this table will be exempt.”

“What about nieces and nephews?

“Don’t push your luck.”

“You seriously expect me to look my brother in the eye–“

“We need to limit the number of people who know!”

“Look him in the eye and what, just give him a condolence card?”

“That’s the responsibility of government, Denise!”

“No, the first responsibility is to protect the best interests of this country, right? Then let's say it. In a national emergency, a country must plan for the future and discriminate between those who are vital to continued stability, and those who are not. And now that we've established that our kids are exempt, the whole principal of random selection is dead in the water anyway.”

“Only so far as–“

“Let me finish. Now look, on the one hand you've got the good schools. And I don't just mean those producing graduates, I mean the pupils who will go on to staff our hospitals, our offices, our factories. The workforce of the future. We need them. Accepted, yes? So, set against that you've got the failing schools, full of the less able, the less socially useful. Those destined to spend a lifetime on benefits, occupying places on the dole queue and, frankly, the prisons. Now look, should we treat them equally? God knows, we've tried, and we've failed. And now the time has come to choose. And if we can't identify the lowest achieving ten percent of this country's children, then what are the school league tables for?”

“Does anyone want to speak against this?” Green asked. There was silence. “Then there we have it. John, you have your criteria. We’ve selected the ten percent.”

Back in the TARDIS, the group was stunned. Gwen was the first to speak.

“We’ve got enough evidence on this recording to destroy every person in that room.”

The Dreamer grinned as a plan occurred to her. She sent a thought to the ship. Would you be able to materialize on Floor Thirteen of the Thames House, Old Girl?

The TARDIS hummed regretfully. _The telepathic signal would scramble me completely, Wolf. I can’t risk it._

The Dreamer nodded and began to speak as the plan formed in her head. “Right. Gwen, take the vortex manipulator and get Alice and Stephen Carter. Rhys, remove yourself to a safe position with that laptop and prepare to release the recording to the entire world at a signal. Theta, you’ll land the TARDIS in COBRA and loose the Oncoming Storm. Amy, stay with him, keep him grounded. Jack, Ianto, and I will confront the 456. Each group will have a method of transportation, except Rhys. First, though, we need Lois to reveal herself.”

Everyone stared at her in amazement, then started to grin, caught up in the excitement of having a plan. “Sounds good,” Gwen said. “Once Lois does it, then everyone get to their positions.” On the laptop, the government began to speak again.

“We need a cover story to explain why the operation is happening and to encourage participation. So the suggestion is we announce that the children will be given some kind of inoculation. A jab to stop them speaking in unison. We stress that there's no immediate danger, that everyone will be seen in due course. Then when it goes wrong, and the children disappear, we blame the aliens, claim ignorance, and face the music,” Frobisher said.

“We say the 456 double-crossed us?” the Defense Secretary clarified.

“That is where the blame should lie. Not on us,” Yates said.

“We play the part of naïve dupes rather than willing accomplices.”

“No one in this room is a willing accomplice.”

‘Do it NOW’ Gwen typed, before adjusting the vortex manipulator on her wrist.

“Thank you, John. Any comments?” Green asked. The camera shifted as Lois tentatively raised her hand.

“This is going to take a hell of a lot of organisation. We'll have to stand the police down and put the army in their place. We barely have time to talk. We need to get this thing moving,” Yates said.

“Then should we reconvene at eighteen hundred?”

“Excuse me,” Lois said. “I have something to say.”

“Well, that’s nice, er, what was your name?”

“Lois, sir. Lois Habiba.”

“Well, thank you for your hard work, Lois, but now really isn’t the best time.”

“I know, I’m only supposed to be here to take notes, but, er, I am a voter.”

“Lois, can I have a word outside?” Bridget hissed.

“No, it needs saying,” Lois said determinedly. 

“Lois, seriously, not now,” Frobisher said,

“And I’m not just speaking on my own behalf.”

“Just what we need, a revolutionary,” Yates grumbled.

“If you like, sir.”

“Oh, yeah? You, and who’s army?”

“Torchwood, sir. And the Doctor.” There was stunned silence.

“Everybody, go, now!” Gwen shouted. Rhys grabbed the laptop, which was still recording, and took Gwen’s arm. The two disappeared. The Doctor ran to the console room and hurriedly piloted them to COBRA. He opened the doors and strode out, followed by the Dreamer, Amy, and Jack and Ianto.

“But Torchwood has been recording all these meetings, and everything that's been said around this table, every single word spoken by every single one of you, will be made public unless you do exactly what Torchwood says,” Lois was saying as they stepped out. “Hello, Dreamer,” she greeted with a small smile.

“Hey, Lois. You did awesome.”

“Now them,” the Dreamer started, pacing. Her long, black leather coat swirled in her wake, making her look quite intimidating. She fixed Green with a cool stare that had a hint of gold in it. “Jack, Ianto, and I are going to go to Floor Thirteen of the Thames House and deal with the 456. Meanwhile, the Doctor is going to stay here and ensure that you do as you’re told.”

Yates spoke up. “Who are you to order your government around?”

“We’re the Oncoming Storm and the Bad Wolf. Those names are well known across the universe, and you are not our government. So, sit tight, the professionals are here to fix this mess.” With that, the Dreamer grabbed Jack’s and Ianto’s arms, preparing to access the Vortex.

“How’re you going to get there?” someone asked.

“Like this,” the Dreamer said, her voice echoing. The three disappeared in a swirl of gold dust.

They landed in the contact room. The camera was still active, transmitting to COBRA. Jack stepped up to the tank. “I'm Captain Jack Harkness. I've dealt with you lot before. I'm here to explain why this time you're not getting what you want.”

“You yielded in the past,” the 456 said.

“And don’t I know it,” Jack answered. “I was there in the past. I was there at that trade in 1965. And that’s why I’m never gonna let it happen again.”

“You yielded in the past. You will do so again,” the 456 said, as though Jack hadn’t spoken.

“There's a saying here on Earth. A very old, very wise friend of mine taught me it. An injury to one is an injury to all. And when people act according to that philosophy, the human race is the finest species in the universe.”

The Dreamer stepped forward. “You are not getting one single, solitary child.”

“Never mind the philosophy,” Ianto continued. “The deal is off.”

“Er, I rather liked the philosophy,” Jack said.

“I gathered.”

“You yielded in the past. You will do so again.”

“In the past, the numbers were so small they could be kept secret. But that is not gonna happen this time. Because this time, we recorded everything. All the negotiations. And unless you leave this planet for good, we’ll release it to the public.”

“You yielded in the past. You will do so again.”

“Rassilon, is that all you can say?” the Dreamer asked. She shook her head, picking up Jack’s narrative. “When that happens, you’ll have six billion angry human beings picking up arms against you. That may be a fight you think you can win, but for their children the human race will fight to the death.”

“And if I have to lead them into battle, I will,” Jack added.

“You've got enough information on this planet, check your records. His name is Captain Jack Harkness. Go back a hundred and fifty years and see what you're facing,” Ianto said.

“While you’re at it, look up the Doctor. His name sent the Atraxi running. He’s the Oncoming Storm, the only one the Daleks fear. Look up the Bad Wolf too. I’m sure you’ve heard of me. The Daleks call me the Abomination because I killed the Emperor. Make the smart decision, and run away, 456. Run away as fast as you can.”

“This is fascinating, isn’t it?” the 456 said. “The human infant mortality rate is twenty-nine thousand one hundred and fifty-eight deaths per day. Every three seconds, a child dies. The human response is to accept and adapt.”

“We’re adapting right now, and we’re making this a war,” Jack said.

“Then the fight begins.”

“We’re waiting for your response.”

“Action has been taken.”

Alarms began to blare throughout the whole of the Thames House. “What have you done?” Jack exclaimed.

“You wanted a demonstration of war. A virus has been released. It will kill everyone in the building.”

The Dreamer engaged her respiratory bypass quickly and grabbed Jack and Ianto. 

“You are already dying,” the 456 said. The Dreamer closed her eyes and quickly brought them back to COBRA, where she began sucking in several breaths of clean air. Jack was looking weak, but he would come back to life. Ianto, on the other hand, had fallen to the floor.

A sudden, high-pitched noise shattered the air. Inside the TARDIS, Clem was screaming in agony.

“No, no, not him, please, not him!” Jack yelled.

There was silence. The members of Gold Command watched with various looks on their faces. The Dreamer leaned against the Doctor, burying her face in his chest. “It’s my fault,” Jack said,

“No, it’s not,” Ianto told him.

“Save your breath.”

“I love you.”

“Don't. Ianto? Ianto. Ianto, stay with me. Ianto, stay with me, please. Stay with me. Stay with me, please.”

“Don’t forget me.”

“Never could.”

“A thousand years’ time you won’t remember me.”

“Yes, I will. I promise. I will. Ianto. Ianto? Don't go. Don't leave me, please. Please don't.”

Jack bent over Ianto’s still body and kissed him one last time before keeling over, dead.

“You will die. You will die, and tomorrow you will deliver the children,” the 456 said to the camera. In COBRA, Jack sucked in a sharp breath of air, then laid his head down on Ianto’s chest and closed his eyes. The Dreamer suppressed a sob. In the Thames House, hundreds of people collapsed against the doors, dead.

The 456 sat silently in its tank. The pitiful humans wouldn’t dare oppose it now. They would hand over the children, and all would be well.  
 **I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.**


	14. Children of Earth-Day Five

**A/N: Mini celebration time! I’ve got 30 followers (thank you all so much) and I’m nearly done with Children of Earth! Fair warning: this is going to be extremely AU. Now, I’ve got a lovely interlude planned for after this chapter, followed by Flesh and Stone/Time of Angels and Vampires of Venice. After that, I’m gonna try my hand at writing an original adventure. There’ll be lots of fluff interspersed throughout these chapters, and I’ve finally got a plan for the rest of this fic. Please, do tell, am I writing Eleven properly? My Doctor is Ten (though I can write Nine fairly well too), and I’m afraid I’m writing Eleven out of character.**

**Disclaimer: I don’t own Doctor Who or Torchwood.**

Children of Earth–Day Five

“Why do they never just leave?” the Doctor muttered under his breath. The Dreamer tightened her arms around him, trying to give him some reassurance as they watched Jack mourn Ianto. The Doctor looked down at her. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I don’t think I breathed any of the virus in. I was using my respiratory bypass.”

“Good.”

“Doctor!” Amy called from the doors of the TARDIS. “Doctor, it’s Clem. They did something, I don’t know, there was this high-pitched noise and he just started screaming and blood was pouring out from everywhere and he’s–he’s dead.”

“It was a telepathic frequency. Burned his mind up,” the Doctor said darkly.

Meanwhile, the members of Gold Command were talking quietly among themselves. One of them made some sort of phone call. Lois, who was still listening carefully to everything said, hurried over to the Doctor.

“They’ve just sent the go-ahead to gather the children, Doctor. They’re gonna do it.”

Jack stood and turned towards her. “Damn,” he said succinctly.

“Dad!” a voice cried. Jack turned to see Alice run to him. He embraced her tightly.

The Dreamer stepped away from the Doctor as she realized what was going to have to come next. Her eyes landed Stephen. The bright, animated blonde boy was grinning from ear to ear, reacting to the news that Jack was his grandpa, not his uncle. He was the only child near them. She took a deep, steadying breath, then grabbed her phone and walked to the corner. No one noticed her.

“Cardiff police station,” a voice said.

“Hello. My name is the Dreamer, and I’m working with the Doctor and Torchwood to save the children. Listen, can you please transfer me to the officer who was in charge of tracking Jack Harkness and the Torchwood team’s movements?”

There was a silence, then a click. “This is Officer Johnson.”

“Listen, I need you to set up a ring of computers as a telepathic wavelength magnifier. As quickly as you can. I also need the coordinates for where you’re gonna do it. This is very important, and if you want to save ten percent of the world’s children, you’ll do as I say without questioning it.”

There was a moment of silence, then Johnson began to speak.

A moment later, the Dreamer hung up the phone and tuned in to the conversation around the table.

“You, all of you, had a chance to do the right thing, to think of something other than yourself, and you instead chose to refuse my help,” the Doctor said, his voice cold and laced with the fury of the Oncoming Storm.

“You had your chance, Doctor, and you failed! There were seven hundred people in the Thames House, and they died in minutes! This is not a war we can win. Our only choice is to comply with the wishes of the 456!” Green shouted.

“There is always a choice.”

“Not this time.”

“Actually, I have to disagree with you.”

“Oh, really?”

“There’s always been a way to defeat them, to kill them all.”

“Then for God’s sake, why haven’t you done it yet?”

“Because I don’t _want_ to kill them all.”

“Doctor…” Amy said softly. “What do we do?”

“I can send a telepathic signal, like they did to kill Clem, but I need a focus. I’d have to use a child. And it will kill them. The frequency will burn out the child’s mind, and there’s absolutely nothing I can do to prevent that. One child… or ten percent of all children.” He turned towards the Prime Minister. “Could you make that decision? Could any of you?”

There was silence. The Dreamer broke it.

“Theta… we don’t have to use a child.”

The Doctor whirled around to look at her. “What–oh, no. No you don’t.  
”  
She continued on, ignoring his protests. “All we need is someone with a telepathic link to the 456. I’m not a child, not being actively used by them, but I’m a very strong telepath and I could broadcast the frequency.”

“Your mind will burn!”

“I have a better chance of surviving it than a child! Would you really sacrifice an innocent child when there is another option? How many children have already died by your hands? Do you not wish to keep that number from increasing?”

The Doctor flinched at her words. “Your mind will burn and there’s no way you’d regenerate, not from that.” 

“I’m the Bad Wolf, Theta. I’ve got a connection with the TARDIS that’s stronger even than yours. There’s a chance that She will be able to shield my mind.”

“You don’t know that! What if you’re wrong?”

“That’s something I’m willing to risk. I’m not going to let you kill a child. Think! They’ve already given the order to gather the kids. We have to move quickly. The only child in reach is Steven. Would you kill Jack’s grandson in front of him?” Alice wrapped her arms tightly and protectively around her son.

“I just got you back,” the Doctor whispered faintly, staring at her. “I–I can’t lose you again.” His face was pale and his eyes wide with fear.

The Dreamer sighed. “Then I’ve got no choice. Sorry about this,” she said, before she took a single step towards him and punched him hard in the jaw. He collapsed, unconscious, into Jack’s waiting arms. “Alice, Gwen, Amy, you stay here, please. Keep them” here she indicated the members of Gold Command “from leaving, and keep Lois safe. After the 456 are taken care of, we need to chat. We’ll be back.” With that, she stepped into the TARDIS.

The Dreamer materialized them in the warehouse where she’d told Johnson to set up the magnifying equipment. “I’ve not got long until that one comes to,” she said, jerking her thumb behind her at the Doctor, who was still out cold, “so we need to work fast.

OoOoO

The Doctor opened his eyes slowly, groaning. Women seemed to have a penchant for knocking him out in this body, he’d noticed. Then he remembered why Arkytior had done so, and he tensed, trying to get to his feet. It was then that he realized he was handcuffed to a metal grating. He swore under his breath and struggled to get his sonic from his pockets.

“Sorry, Doc,” Jack said, “but you’re not going anywhere.” The Doctor turned to see Jack holding his sonic, standing just out of reach. His gaze traveled past the immortal man, to see Arkytior, his Arkytior, standing in the center of a ring of computers, which he identified immediately as a magnification circle.

“Let me go!” he cried desperately. “Please, stop it!” Rassilon, why were women so stubborn? Didn’t she know–oh. Perhaps she didn’t. It wasn’t like he’d done anything to make her realize; in fact, he’d been running since she returned. Was that why she was so determined to do this? Because she didn’t think that she was good enough for him? The Doctor recalled Jack’s words. _She fought in the Time War… she doesn’t think she’s good enough for you anymore._

Now that was an idea. “Arkytior, please,” he begged, his voice low. She looked at him sadly, and smiled.

“I’ll see you in a moment,” she said softly, musically, that gorgeous Celtic accent making her words, so optimistic, sound so sad and final. She whispered something else, something in Gallifreyan, he could tell, but he couldn’t hear her well enough to know what she said. There was a bright flash of light, and the Doctor felt something in him break as he heard the screams of the woman he loved.

OoOoO

The Dreamer screamed as agony seared through her. A bright flash of gold obscured her vision as she called desperately on the Wolf inside her. _TARDIS_! She screamed mentally as she felt her barriers collapsing.

_I am here, my Wolf. Be strong._

_It burns_ , she thought, whimpering as her scream trailed off. Her throat was raw. The frequency tore through her mind, still, and held her body frozen. The golden light surrounding her reached its peak, filling the entire warehouse, then began to die down. A strange, unearthly wail escaped her parted lips, and she knew it was being echoed by every child in the world.

_Be strong, my Wolf._

Her mind was blurring. . . she reached desperately for memories, any memories, trying to keep herself from burning…

_Hi, my name’s Theta Sigma. Nice to meet you, Arkytior._

_Laying in the red grass, her head pillowed on his chest, his fingers playing with her hair, they watched the suns set in the orange sky, a stolen moment of peace amidst the rigors of the Academy._

_I hate my father, Theta. I wish I could get away from him. I have an idea; I’ll ask him for permission to bond with you, and if he accepts, we’ll steal a TARDIS and run away, you and me, and see the universe together._

_How dare you become attached to a man lower than you? You are forbidden to ever speak to Theta Sigma again, daughter, and if I discover you are flouting this rule, I will not hesitate to punish you._

_Seeing him married, with children and a granddaughter, was more painful than she could’ve imagined, but the pain of not ever seeing his face would be more than she could handle. The granddaughter’s name was Arkytior, and a message had told her that he had asked for this name in memory of her._

_He was stealing a TARDIS, and running away, just like he had said he would, only with the Arkytior he was allowed to have by his side, rather than the one he wanted the most. She saw it, and ran to try and get to him, but her father appeared from out of nowhere and wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her captive. She screamed his name, before Rassilon placed a finger to her temple and sent her into a deep sleep._

_“Run.”_

_“Nice to meet you, Rose. Run for your life!”_

_Memories of her travels with him flooded her mind, and the Dreamer let her love for the Doctor, regardless of his face, pull her through the burning, searing scream that tried to tear her apart._

The light died down and the onslaught suddenly left her mind. She was free. The Dreamer turned her head slightly to see the Doctor struggling with his sonic, not bothering to find the right setting, just switching it to the closest one that would undo his restraints. He flew across the room and caught her as she collapsed in his arms.

“Arkytior? Arkytior, answer me. Are you alright? Arkytior!”

“Hello,” she murmured, drawing strength from his presence, and from the singing of the TARDIS in her mind. “I’ll last long enough to deal with Gold Command, then I’m going to need to sleep.”

“How did you survive? I thought–I thought you were going to burn. Your mind should’ve been completely destroyed!”

“It doesn’t matter,” the Dreamer said, refusing to meet his gaze. “C’mon. We’ve got stuff to do.”

They landed the TARDIS back in COBRA to pick up Amy and drop Jack off with Gwen and his family. Jack graciously agreed to take care of the clean-up, knowing how much the Doctor hated it, and promised to make sure that the Queen knew exactly what had happened. He also said that he would make certain to change the piece of the Torchwood charter that stated the Doctor as an enemy of the Crown. Before they left, however, Jack pulled the Doctor aside.

“Remember what I told you, Doc,” he said, glancing over where the Dreamer was telling Stephen a highly edited version of what had happened. She was clearly exhausted, but she was grinning brightly and her voice was animated. The Doctor had never seen anything more beautiful, and he said as much. “Neither have I. Doc, she made her choice a long time ago, but if you don’t treat her the way she deserves to be treated, I swear to you that genius Time Lord or not, I will take her from you. Understood?”

The Doctor nodded solemnly. “Perfectly,” he said. Jack grinned and changed the conversation.

“So, would you mind giving Gwen and I a ride? UNIT’s bringing some soldiers in to take these guys into custody, and the TARDIS is far more comfortable than the vortex manipulator.”

“Yeah, not a problem.”

Jack followed the Doctor into the TARDIS and grinned charmingly at Amy. “I don’t think we’ve ever been… properly introduced,” he said with a grin and a flirty wink. Amy flushed slightly.

“Jack, now is not the time,” the Dreamer said teasingly, laughing.

“There’s always time for a feisty redhead,” Jack returned, shifting his suggestive gaze to the Dreamer. “But there’s only one on this ship who’s available.”

“Oi, Harkness, no flirting with Amy!” the Doctor exclaimed as he threw the lever that would take them into the Vortex.

“You’ve already narrowed my list of people I’m allowed to flirt with down far too much.”

“She’s not people, she’s a Pond! My spaceship, my rules, Captain.”

“You’re calling me a captain now? The bow tie really has changed you!”

“I’ll have you know, bow ties are very cool,” the Doctor sniffed, straightening said tie possessively. He circled the console and landed the TARDIS where Rhys was.

Before Jack and Gwen exited, the Dreamer took both of their phones and added her number. “You ever need help, you call us, ok? We’ll be there in a heartsbeat.” With smiles and nods, the two humans left the TARDIS.

The Doctor sent them back into the Vortex and said something about taking a rest. Both women gratefully agreed. The Dreamer went to her bedroom, took a long, hot shower, and changed into a vest top and shorts, before curling up in her bed. Her last thought was a hope that she was exhausted enough to sleep free of nightmares.

She should’ve known better than to hope.

**Wow, soo, lots of stuff in this chapter! Character development, depthness, wow. This was mentally exhausting to write, but it just flowed from my mind. Next up is an interlude, with *hint, hint* lots of Doctor/Dreamer goodness. Oh, and, thanks to garbolaughs39 on FF.net for the idea of the Doctor naming Susan after the Dreamer. Thanks to all reviewers, followers, and favoriters. Until next time!**


	15. Interlude: Demons in the Dark

**A/N: The beginning of this chapter deals with the Time War. As for the ideas of stuff, I’ve taken names and such from “The End of Time” and interpreted them how I would, with the exception of a couple ideas that I’ve taken from bubblygal92’s epically awesome fic “Battle in the Sky”. Some of her ideas were just incredible and I decided to make them my headcanon; hence, the using of them in my fic. So, basically, if you recognize it from her fic, I didn’t make it up!**

**Disclaimer: I don’t own Doctor Who.**

Demons in the Dark

_“Lady Dreamer, the Skaro Degradations have escaped,” the young Time Lord said, his voice quivering with fear. Fear of her, of what her reaction would be to this news. Two centuries of war had turned her into a cold, hard, careless soldier. She was ruthless, with little regard of life beyond how it would serve her. Rumors flew that it was because of her father, Rassilon, but none would dare say so to her face. It was well known that their relationship had not been stable at all._

_“They have escaped,” she said in a dangerously flat voice. “The most dangerous creatures of the War so far, and they have escaped. Is that all you have to tell me?”_

_“No, my lady. They are clustered on four planets near the Gates of Elysium.”_

_“Excellent.” The Dreamer smiled as she gave the order to send the planets in to the Void. One had to be careful, after all. Romana was very angry, however._

_“You killed twenty-eight billion people! Without permission! We could’ve refined the process to only affect the Degradations!”_

_“Better safe than sorry.”_

_“You’re the one who’s going to have to live with the blood of so many on your hands,” Romana said with a sigh, abandoning the argument._

_There was a price to pay, though. The Nightmare Child. Of course, with the right host, the child could be used as a weapon against the Daleks. Before the Dreamer could order one of her Lieutenants to become the Host, Romana ordered the Gates of Elysium opened once more._

_The Horde of Travesties were created to fight the Meanwhiles and Neverweres. The Dreamer helped with the preparing of the chosen Time Lords, exposing them to the Vortex and dosing them with massive amounts of artron energy. She blocked out their screams of pain. Sometimes, at night, on the rare times she slept, the walls holding her emotions back would come tumbling down and she would see herself as the monster she was; but during the day, she had to be so._

_The mental screams of anguish and agony when Arcadia fell would echo in her head forever, she knew. But she didn’t have much time to register this new torture, because suddenly Rassilon was being resurrected and Romana stepped down and then the Chameleon Arch was revealed to her. She almost welcomed it, knowing it would ease the screams in her mind. She wouldn’t remember her hands soaked with blood… wouldn’t remember the coldly cruel way she sent her fellow Time Lords to their deaths. She looked at her hands and saw them stained crimson, with blood pouring out of her fingertips. The lives of over twenty-eight billion souls._

The Dreamer gasped as she dragged herself out of the nightmare. The reason why she hated to sleep. She whimpered and buried her head in her pillow, curling into a small ball, unaware of the Doctor’s presence. 

The Doctor was standing in the doorway, watching as the Dreamer huddled underneath the blankets. He had been messing around with the console, trying not to think about the fact that she had hardly acknowledged him since their argument earlier, when he felt the TARDIS asking him to lower his mental shields. He had obliged, warily, and immediately sensed the chaotic swirling of Arkytior’s mind. She was having a nightmare, a rather bad one, and her shields had fallen down completely. Without conscious thought, he had made his way to her bedroom, but now that he was there, he was reluctant to enter in.

The Dreamer sighed as she tried to push the blood and screams out of her head. It was then that she noticed her shields were down, and that the Doctor was just outside her bedroom. She had probably been blasting him with her nightmares, she realized with mounting horror. What if he had seen what she had done? The Dreamer hid her face in her pillow again as she felt tears begin to roll down her cheeks. The next thing she knew, the Doctor was sitting on the edge of her bed.

“Hey, it’s ok,” he said softly.

“Go away,” she murmured into the pillow, but it was halfhearted at best, and they both knew it.

“C’mere,” he said in response, gathering her into his arms. She tensed, at first, but found herself relaxing against him, her head on his chest.

“I saw what you were dreaming about, Arkytior,” the Doctor said after a little while.

“So you know I’m a monster,” she returned.

He shook his head and smiled sadly. “The Time War made monsters of us all, dear,” he said. “You don’t get that distinction all to yourself.”

The Dreamer smiled, a small, sad, smile. “I sent twenty-eight billion people to their deaths without a care, Theta.” The Doctor’s arms tightened around her.

“I killed 2.74 billion children alone when I detonated the Moment. You were right, earlier, when you asked me how many children I had already killed. I killed the founder of Time Lord society. But you know what hurt the most, Arkytior?”

“What?” she asked quietly. He shifted her so that she was looking him in the eye.

“The thought that I had killed the woman I loved.” He took a deep breath, looking away for a moment before returning his gaze to her face. “I almost didn’t believe it was you, at first, although I could feel your mental signature. I just didn’t dare to hope. Then, I didn’t want to risk slowing down, for fear of what you would say. I’m a coward, have always been, and I couldn’t imagine that you would want to stay. Jack talked to me, earlier. He said that you didn’t think that you were good enough for me. Arkytior… you will always be far more than I deserve. Who else but you could’ve healed my hearts after the Time War? Could keep me from going mad from loneliness?” 

He stopped talking when he realized she was crying again, afraid he had said something wrong. He opened his mouth to ask, but was stopped by her lips against his. It was a deep, intense kiss, and he found himself responding ardently.

“A kiss,” the Dreamer said when she pulled back, out of breath, “is a lovely trick designed by nature when words become superfluous.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” the Doctor said, nodding, before leaning down to kiss her again. “So, what did you say when you were about to make yourself the epicenter of the telepathic broadcast earlier?” he asked curiously.

The Dreamer hesitated for a moment, then told him the truth. “I said, ‘Goodbye, my love.’ In case I didn’t survive, so I would’ve told you at least once.” She yawned widely and sighed. “I really should get some more sleep.”

The Doctor was grinning like a fool. “Sleep, my Arkytior,” he said softly. “I’ll stay with you and keep the nightmares at bay.”

Outside the door, Amy Pond looked up at the ceiling, grinning. She received a happy hum in return, along with a note of ‘finally!’. Then, the ginger crept back to her bedroom, where she would be able to sleep in peace knowing that the two Time Lords had finally acknowledged their feelings.

**It’s short, sorry. But it is just an interlude, after all. Until next update!**


	16. The Time of Angels-Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late post; I forgot to update over here! Sometimes I lose track where I have an haven't updated!

**A/N: First… huge, HUGE thank you to bastistaangel15 for agreeing to betaread the rest of the story! If you haven’t read their “Stars Aligned” series you’re missing out. Secondly, I’m going to start posting to a schedule. Once a week on Thursdays; if I’m writing faster than that I’ll post on Mondays as well.**

**Disclaimer: I don’t own Doctor Who.**

The Time of Angels–Part One

"You promised me a planet, and what do I get? A museum! I want an actual, alien planet," Amy complained. "You've got a time machine, what do you need museums for, anyway?"

The Doctor shook his head. "Wrong. Wrong. Bit right, mostly wrong. I love museums, Pond! And this isn't any old asteroid. It's the Delerium Archive, the final resting place of the Headless Monks."

"Technically, this is another planet," the Dreamer said with a smirk. "But, to answer your question, Amy, museums are how he keeps score. We ended up at so many back when I used to travel with him. Although, we did find a statue of myself in one," she reminisced.

"Wrong. Very wrong. Ooo, one of mine. Also one of mine. I remember that trip!" the Doctor crowed, pausing in his inspection. "It was all, you're a statue, I'm a statue, running around crazy. Ancient Rome! Did I ever tell you what happened when I tried to take Donna to Rome?"

The Dreamer laughed, remembering when her Doctor, James, had mentioned it. "And you ended up in Pompeii instead?"

"Yep!" he exclaimed happily, popping the 'p'. "That's the one! Ooh, look at that," he said as he hurried over to a glass case.

"Is that…?" the Dreamer asked curiously, peering over his shoulder.

"Oh, great, an old box," Amy said sarcastically.

"It's from one of the old starliners," the Doctor explained. "A Home Box."

"What's a Home Box?"

"Like the black box on a plane, except it homes."

"Anything happens to the ship, the box'll fly back to the starting point with the flight data," the Dreamer added. "And, unless I'm mistaken, that's High Old Gallifreyan writing on the top."

"The lost language of the Time Lords," the Doctor added. "There were days, there were many days, those words could burn stars and raise up empires, and topple gods."

"What does it say?" Amy asked curiously.

"Hello, sweetie."

The Dreamer shared a look with the Doctor, and the next instant, he pointed his sonic at the case while she aimed hers at the ceiling, confusing the alarms long enough for the Doctor to grab the Home Box. His free hand found hers as they ran back to the TARDIS. The Dreamer fumbled with her key, finally giving up and mentally begging the Old Girl to open the doors. She did without complaining.

"Thanks, Sexy," the Doctor said as they got inside. The TARDIS's hum was tinged with amusement so strong even Amy felt it.

"Remind me, why are we doing this?" the Scottish girl asked.

"Because someone on a ship twelve thousand years ago is trying to attract my attention. Let's see if we can get the security playback working."

He and the Dreamer finished plugging the box in and watched the scanner curiously. It showed a woman with wild blonde curls, wearing a formal dress and heels, winking at the camera. A moment later a familiar man in a trench coat appeared.

"No way," Amy said. "But we just saw him! He's in Cardiff!"

"Time travel, Pond," the Doctor reminded.

"Shhh," the Dreamer hissed.

"Alistair's on his way. Is everything ready?" Jack Harkness asked. The blonde inclined her head at the camera.

"Say hello, Jack," she said, her voice low. Jack turned his most charming, roguish grin on the camera and winked suggestively.

"The party's over, Doctor Song. Yet you're still on board, and you as well, Harkness," a man said. The Dreamer guessed it to be the aforementioned Alistair.

"Sorry, Alistair," Doctor Song said. "I needed to see what was in your vault.  
Do you know what's down there? Any of you?"

"This ship won't reach its destination," Jack said gravely.

"Wait until they run. Don't make it look like an execution," Alistair said in response.

Doctor Song grinned and began to speak. "Triple seven five slash three four nine by ten. Zero twelve slash acorn."

"We could do with an air corridor," Jack called.

The Dreamer and the Doctor barely spared each other a glance as they immediately moved into a chaotic yet seamless dance around the console.

"What was that?" Amy asked, confused.

"Coordinates," the Dreamer answered, flipping a lever as the Doctor inputted said coordinates into the scanner.

The airlock that Jack and Dr. Song were standing in front of opened, and just in time as the TARDIS materialized in their flight path. The Dreamer ran to throw the doors open, and the two flew through the doors, nearly landing on her.

"Hey, Jack, what are you doing here?" the Dreamer asked curiously, moving to give him a hug.

"Do you not want me around?" the Captain asked teasingly.

"You know that's not true. I was just curious, since it's only been a few days since we last saw you."

"Been a few months for me," Jack answered. Any further conversation was halted by a sudden outburst.

"Use the stabilizers!" the blonde woman cried from the console.

"There aren't any stabilizers," the Doctor retorted.

The Dreamer hurried over. "The blue buttons, Theta," she told him.

"Those don't do anything, they're just blue!"

"Yes, they're blue stabilizers," the blonde said patiently, pressing them. "Oh, hello, Rose." The TARDIS stopped shaking immediately. The woman whirled around the console a moment, then spoke again. "Right, I've mapped the probability vectors, done a fold-back on the temporal isometry, charted the ship to its destination, and parked us right alongside." The TARDIS wheezed and materialized…wherever they were.

"Doctor, who is she, and how come she can fly the TARDIS?" Amy asked from the side.

"I'm wondering that myself," the Dreamer asked with an arched brow. "And the only person who calls me Rose is Jack, so mind filling me in why you think you can?"

The blonde looked shocked. "I've always called you Rose. You told me that's what your name meant."

Before the Dreamer could react to that statement, the Doctor intervened.

"Arkytior, Amy Pond, this is Professor River Song," he said.

"Ah, I'm going to be a Professor some day? How exciting," River said cheekily. "Spoilers."

"Wherever we are, it's got a breathable, oxygen-rich atmosphere," Jack said from the doors.

The Doctor hurried over and stuck his head out. "We're on Alfava Metraxis, the seventh planet of the Dundra System," he proclaimed smugly. "Oxygen rich atmosphere, all toxins in the soft band, eleven-hour day and chances of rain later. Come along, Pond, I promised you a planet."

"Right, then, why did they land here?" River asked.

"They didn't land," the Doctor answered.

"What?"

"You should've checked the Home Box. They crashed." The five stepped outside the TARDIS and observed their surroundings.

"What caused it to crash?" Amy asked, looking at the burning wreckage.

"Not us," River said, indicating herself and Jack.

"Not you, indeed," the Dreamer agreed. "The airlock would've sealed itself seconds after you blew it. You read the Home Box, Theta. Why did they crash?"

"The warp engines had a phase shift," the Doctor replied. "No survivors."

"A phase shift would have to be sabotage," Jack put in. "We did warn them."

"About what?" the Dreamer asked.

"Well, at least the building was empty. Aplan temple. Unoccupied for centuries," River mused.

"How did they do that?" Amy asked. "Get you to show up. Even know that you would show up! She just left you a note in a museum."

"There are two things guaranteed to show up in a museum sooner or later. The Home Box of a category four starliner and him. It's how he keeps score."

The Scottish girl grinned. "I know."

"It's hilarious, isn't it?" River asked.

"Okay, so non-linear meeting?" the Dreamer asked. "Is that how you know us?"

"Her timeline runs backwards to ours," the Doctor said quietly in her ear. "I've met her once before. Did James tell you about the Library?"

The Dreamer nodded in understanding.

"I'm nobody's taxi service," the Doctor whined at River, as though the momentary aside hadn't occurred. "I'm not going to be there to catch you every time you feel like jumping out of a spaceship."

"You are so wrong," River said. "There's one survivor. There's a thing in the belly of that ship that can't ever die."

"Now he's listening," Jack said jokingly, exchanging a grin with River.

The Dreamer noted the way they stood and found herself grinning. She made eye contact with Jack and raised a single eyebrow. To her surprise, the ex-conman grinned like a fool and nodded once. Ignoring the conversation around her, the Dreamer moved over to him and hugged him again.

"How long have you been together?" she asked quietly.

"Since I met her," Jack answered. "It's complicated." The Dreamer opened her mouth but stopped before she could speak at a flirtatious 'ooh' from one Scottish ginger.

"Ooo, Doctor, you sonicked her," Amy exclaimed in a decidedly suggestive voice.

"We have a minute. Shall we?" River asked, pulling out a TARDIS-blue diary. The Dreamer frowned at the book. River sighed. "Rose, have you even met me yet? God, you're still so young, both of you."

"What is the book?" Amy asked curiously.

"Her diary," the Doctor answered.

"Our diary," River corrected. "You two really should get a couple for yourselves, if you haven't yet."

The Doctor waved his hand as he explained. "Her past, my future. Time travel. We keep meeting in the wrong order."

"Our future, I hope," the Dreamer murmured so softly she thought no one other than her heard. To her surprise, River turned her head slightly, but there was neither confirmation nor denial in her gaze.

Before there could be any more conversation, however, four dustdevils appeared, becoming soldiers. One of them, who was clearly the leader, stepped to River. "You promised me an army, Doctor Song," he said, regarding the small group with disdain.

"We," River stressed "promised you the equivalent of an army. This is the Doctor and his–ah, and the Dreamer," she finished, her near-mistake almost unnoticeable except to the two Time Lords, who exchanged a glance.

"Father Octavian, Sir. Bishop, second class," the man said, saluting. "Twenty clerics at my command. The troops are already in the drop ship and landing shortly. Doctor Song and Captain Harkness were helping us with a covert investigation. Has Doctor Song explained what we're dealing with?"

"Doctor, Rose," River began, "what do you know about the Weeping Angels?"

OoOoO

"The Angel, as far as we know, is still trapped in the ship," Octavian said as they gathered around the fire. Due to the short length of the days on Alfava Metraxis, it was already nighttime. "Our mission is to get inside and neutralize it. We can't get through up top, we'd be too close to the drives. According to this, behind the cliff face there's a network of catacombs leading right up to the temple. We can blow through the base of the cliffs, get into the entrance chamber, then make our way up."

"Oh, good," the Doctor said sarcastically.

"Good, sir?"

"Catacombs. Probably dark ones. Dark catacombs. Great."

"Technically I think it's called a maze of the dead," Octavian said.

"You can stop any time you like."

"Father Octavian?" one of the young soldiers called, and the man being called excused himself and left.

"You're letting people call you 'sir'," Amy remarked. "You never do that. So, whatever a Weeping Angel is, it's really bad, yeah?"

"What part of 'wait in the TARDIS until it's safe' was confusing?" the Doctor grumbled to himself.

"Ooo, you are all Mister Grumpy Face today, aren't you?"

"A Weeping Angel, Amy, is the deadliest, most powerful, most malevolent life form evolution has ever produced, and right now one of them is trapped inside that wreckage and I'm supposed to climb in after it with a screwdriver and a torch, and assuming I survive the radiation long enough and assuming the whole ship doesn't explode in my face, do something incredibly clever which I haven't actually thought of yet. That's my day. That's what I'm up to. Any questions?"

"Amy," the Dreamer said gently, "the Weeping Angels are very dangerous. In the dark, even more so, because you can't see them." She was going to continue, to explain further, when there was a shout from the drop ship.

"Doctor!" It was River. "Father Octavian!" The blonde had changed into army fatigues and was beckoning the small group over.

"Yes, I am definitely Mister Grumpy Face today," the Doctor grumbled as he got to his feet rather ungracefully and moved towards the drop ship.

"He doesn't like not knowing things," the Dreamer told Amy. "River Song is a textbook enigma, and he hates that she knows more than he does. Makes it hard for him to pretend he knows everything." Amy grinned; in the short time that she'd been traveling with the Time Lords, she had discovered that the Doctor did, in fact, like to think he knew everything.

"Why do they call him Father?" Amy asked the Doctor when they caught up to him.

"He's their Bishop, they're his Clerics," he told her. "It's the fifty-first century. The Church has moved on." He, the Dreamer, and Amy entered the drop ship, Jack and Octavian following behind. There was a grainy video playing on a screen of a stone angel statue, its back to the camera.

"What do you think? It's from the security cameras in the Byzantium vault. I ripped it when I was on board. Sorry about the quality. It's four seconds. I've put it on loop," River informed them.

"I'm ninety percent sure it's an Angel," Jack stated.

"Yep, that's an Angel," the Doctor confirmed.

"See its hands? Covering its face. Sure sign," the Dreamer added.

"You've encountered the Angels before," Octavian said. It wasn't a question, but the Doctor nodded anyway.

"Once, on Earth, long time ago. But those were scavengers, barely surviving."

"But it's just a statue," Amy said, slightly bewildered. "What's such a big deal about a statue?"

"It's a statue when you see it," River said ominously.

"Where did it come from?" the Dreamer asked curiously  
.  
River turned towards her. "Oh, pulled from the ruins of Razbahan, end of last century. It's been in private hands ever since. Dormant all that time."

"There's a difference between dormant and patient," the Doctor muttered.

"What do you mean, it's a statue when you see it?" Amy asked.

"The Weeping Angels can only move when they are unseen, so legend has it," Jack said. "And most legends tend to have a base in truth."

"It's a quantum lock," the Doctor said. "In the sight of any living creature the Angels cease to exist. They're just stone. The ultimate defense mechanism."

"What, being a stone?" Amy scoffed.

"Yes, being a stone…until you turn your back," the Dreamer said. Amy frowned, then her eyes widened and she shivered slightly.

"Now you're getting it, Pond," the Doctor said.

"It's stone, unless it can't be seen," Amy started. "And we have to go through bunch of dark catacombs, where we can barely see, to get to the ship?"

"About sums it up," Jack said.

"Now you see why I'm Mister Grumpy Face today?" the Doctor asked.  
Amy nodded slowly, and the group turned to go back to the camp. None of them noticed the Angel on the monitor lift its head from its hands and glance over its shoulder.

The Doctor started to talk as they exited the drop ship. "The hyperdrive would've split on impact. That whole ship's going to be flooded with drive burn radiation, cracked electrons, gravity storms. Deadly to almost any living thing."

"Deadly to an Angel?" Octavian asked hopefully.

The Doctor shook his head. "Dinner to an Angel."

"Of course," Jack grumbled.

"The longer we leave it there," the Dreamer said, "the stronger it will grow. Who built this temple? Wait, you said Aplans, didn't you?"

"Right," River said. "Aplans were the indigenous life-form. They died out around four hundred years ago."

Jack took over the explanation. "Two centuries ago, the world was terraformed. Currently, there's six billion colonists living here."

"Whoo! You lot, you're everywhere. You're like rabbits," the Doctor exclaimed. "I'll never get done saving you."

"And wouldn't our life be so much more boring if we ever did?" the Dreamer inquired with a tongue-touched grin. The Doctor shot her an answering smile and she saw through his pretend indignation with ease.

"Sir, if there's a clear and present danger to the local population," Octavian began slowly.

"Oh, there is," the Doctor interrupted. "Bad as it gets. Lock and load, Bishop."

"Anybody need me?" Amy asked. "Nobody? Okay."

"Harkness, how are you with those explosives?" Octavian asked.

"Two minutes," Jack called back. He was a short distance across the camp, helping the clerics set up several charges that would blow an entrance into the Maze of the Dead.

"Doctor Song, with me," Octavian added, motioning to the blonde woman.

"Sweetie, I need you," River threw over her shoulder. "You too, please, Rose."

"Sweetie?" the Doctor said questioningly. The Dreamer snorted at his obvious dislike of the nickname.

"It's a term of endearment, Theta," she teased. "It could be worse, you know. She could call you 'Chinny'."

"Chinny?" the Doctor spluttered. "What's wrong with my chin?"

The Dreamer laughed, pausing her movement to reach up and lightly run her fingers across the offending body part. "Absolutely nothing, dear," she said, dropping her hand and twining her fingers with his. "Come on, River's waiting."

"If you're quite done," River said, smirking. "I found this. Definitive work on the Angels. Well, the only one. Written by a madman. It's barely readable, but I've marked a few passages." She held the book out to the Doctor and he took it, rifling through it quickly.

"Not bad. Bit slow in the middle. Didn't you hate his girlfriend?" his face changed suddenly. "No. No, hang on. Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait." He then proceeded to sniff the book. Meanwhile, Amy's voice floated out from the drop ship.

"Doctor Song? Did you have more than one clip of the Angel?"

River frowned. "No, just the four seconds."

"This book is wrong. What's wrong with this book? It's wrong."

"So you said," the Dreamer commented dryly. She turned to River. "How do you always recognize him, then? He doesn't always look the same."

"I've got pictures of all his faces. He never shows up in the right order, though. I need the spotter's guide." The Dreamer laughed.

"Pictures," the Doctor muttered, then froze. "Why aren't there pictures?"

The Dreamer frowned, then glanced over at the drop ship where she had thought she heard Amy's voice calling for the Doctor.

"This whole book, it's a warning about the Weeping Angels, so why no pictures? Why not show us what to watch out for?" the Doctor continued.

"Hang on, there was a bit about images in there somewhere," River said.

The Doctor flipped through the book. "That which holds the image of an Angel becomes an Angel."

"What does that mean?" River asked. The Dreamer paled as Amy's earlier question ran through her mind again.

"An image of an Angel becomes an Angel itself," she whispered in mounting horror. "Say, a four-second video clip." The Doctor's eyes widened.

"Amy," he whispered.

"Doctor! It's in the room!" Amy screamed from inside the drop ship.

"Are you alright? What's happening?" the Doctor shouted as he ran to the door.

"Doctor? Doctor, it's coming out of the television!"

The Doctor sonicked the keypad, but the door was deadlock-sealed and wouldn't open. "Keep looking at it, Amy. As long as you're looking at it, it can't move," the Dreamer called through the metal.

There was a moment of silence, then Amy spoke again, her voice shaking. "The Angel is here."

**Yay, cliffhanger! Thanks to reviewers, followers, and favoriters. Until next update!**


	17. Author's Note

**Hello readers! Just a quick Author's Note.**

**I'm going to be away this weekend and won't have the ability to write.**

**Also, I hate to do this in the middle of an episode, and after a cliffhanger no less, but I'm taking a _very_ brief hiatus to put my thoughts in order. I have only a vague plan for the second half of this season, and right now I need, before I can continue with this two-parter, I need to figure out how I'll be approaching some important plot points (namely, the crack). I will not be updating this week. I will, however, hopefully have a chapter ready for next week's update.**

**As a condolence, I'll give you a couple sneaky previews as to my vague plans. I'm not going to be writing the episode "Amy's Choice" which means... original story! Yay! And then, we may or may not have a bonding ceremony... I'll be doing much more canon-changing in the second half of the season, so if the episodes were too similar for you, stay tuned.**

**Meanwhile, for those of you who really want to read something, besides my one-shots and drabbles, I've got something for you. A little bit of adventure with Team TARDIS. The story is titled "Team TARDIS vs the Agency" and while it's short, it'll hold you over until the next chapter.**

**Sorry about the delay!**

**\--BadWolfGirl**


	18. The Time of Angels-Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some quotes taken from the episode "Blink".

**A/N: Early update because I want to, and because I missed last Thursday. This is going to diverge from canon rather greatly at the end; there is a reason for that. I hope you enjoy!**

**Beta-ed by the wonderful batistaangel15.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

The Time of Angels-Part Two

_"The Angel is here."_

"The whole ship is deadlocked!" River cried in frustration.

"Don't blink, Amy," the Doctor called through the door. "Don't even blink!"

The Dreamer racked her brain, searching desperately for an idea. "Jack!" she yelled. The captain was there in a moment.

"Doctor! Help me!" Amy shouted desperately.

"Squareness gun," the Dreamer said sharply, holding her hand out for Jack's sonic blaster. He handed it to her, wordlessly. The Dreamer fired the gun at the door, but nothing happened. She cursed colorfully in several alien languages including Gallifreyan. The Doctor raised an eyebrow at her then turned back to the door.

"Have you tried turning it off?" he asked.

"I tried," a distraught Amy said. "It just keeps switching back on."

"Yeah, it's the Angel," the Doctor said.

"But it's just a recording!"

"No, anything that holds the image of an Angel is an Angel."

"Doctor, what's it going to do to me?" Amy asked.

"Just keep looking at it. Don't stop looking."

"Tell me."

"Don't worry about it, Amy. Just don't blink!" the Dreamer snapped. "Theta, do something!"

"Look at the Angel, but not the eyes," the Doctor said suddenly. He was flipping through the book.

"Why?" Amy asked. Her voice was shaking.

"The eyes are not the windows of the soul. They are the doors. Beware what may enter there," the Doctor read. The Dreamer sucked in a sharp breath. _Is there anything we can do, my Heart?_ She asked the TARDIS.

 _Not yet, my Wolf_ , the TARDIS replied. _Patience. You must save your strength. There is a great testing of our joining to come._

A series of images flashed through the Dreamer's mind; something about dark tunnels, statues, fear, and tangling timelines. It moved too quickly for her to remember it all, but she got the gist. Something was coming, and the Bad Wolf would be needed.

"Doctor, what did you say? About images?" Amy called, capturing the Dreamer's attention once more.

"That which holds the image of an Angel becomes an Angel," River recited.

"Okay," Amy muttered. "One, Two, Three, Four"

"Amy?" the Doctor called worriedly.

The door opened.

"I froze it. There was a sort of blip on the tape and I froze it on the blip. It wasn't the image of an Angel anymore. That was good, yeah? It was, wasn't it? That was pretty good," Amy said. She was shaking.

The Dreamer stepped over to the ginger girl and hugged her tightly. "It was fantastic," she said with a bright smile. She felt Amy relax slowly.

"So it was here? That was the Angel?" River asked. Jack reached out and placed a reassuring hand on the blonde's shoulder.

"That was a projection of the Angel," the Doctor stated. "It's reaching out, getting a good look at us. It's no longer dormant."

"Doctor! Dreamer!" Octavian called as an explosion went off. "We're through!"

The Dreamer turned, releasing Amy, and stared ahead. "Here we go," she murmured.

The Doctor reached out and took her hand, squeezing it gently. The five time travelers walked over to where Octavian stood near the entrance, which was a hole in the ground which opened up to the underground maze. A rope ladder dangled over the lip of the pit, and the clerics were descending one-by-one into the darkness below, the little gleams of light emanating from their torches the only illumination of what lay in waiting. The Doctor went first, followed by the Dreamer, Amy, Jack, and River. Octavian brought up the rear.

"Do we have a gravity globe?" the Doctor asked when everyone was down.

"Grav globe," a cleric said, handing one over.

"Where are we? What is this?" Amy asked, looking around.

"It's an Aplan Moratorium," Jack told her. "Sometimes called a Maze of the Dead. Cheery, isn't it?"

"What's that?" Amy asked, still confused. "And no, that's not exactly the most reassuring thing I've ever heard."

"Oh, I can think of worse," the Dreamer muttered under her breath. "Like a spaceship named Titanic, or 'This is Emergency Programme One,'." The Doctor grinned at the reference to one of his many adventures, but he had the grace to look ashamed–or at least slightly sheepish–about the latter. Amy, on the other hand, was only more confused.

"Or 'We're spending a week in Jackie Tyler's flat and no, you cannot just skip ahead,'" the Doctor quipped. "That one's right up there with 'Exterminate'."

"Oi!" the Dreamer exclaimed in an affronted tone. "That's my mum you're talking about, biological or not."

Jack laughed. "Maze of the Dead," he prompted the Doctor.

"Right. What is a Maze of the Dead? Well, if you happen to be a creature of living stone–" the Doctor paused, kicking the gravity globe into the air, where it lit up the cavernous space.

"The perfect hiding place," the Dreamer breathed, staring at the massive array of statuary.

"I guess this makes it a bit trickier," Octavian said slowly.

"Just a bit," Jack said sarcastically.

"A stone Angel on the loose amongst stone statues. A lot harder than I prayed for."

"A needle in a haystack," River commented softly, taking in their surroundings.

"A needle that looks like hay. A hay-like needle of death. A hay-alike needle of death in a haystack of, er, statues. No, yours was fine," the Doctor rambled.

While Amy grinned at his antics, the Dreamer saw the nervousness he was trying to hide. She squeezed his hand lightly.

"It'll be alright, Theta," she said softly. She heard the others talking in the background; Octavian was whispering to River while Jack flirted with Amy–probably an attempt to calm the redhead. Probably.

The Doctor pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her, and placed a light kiss on the top of her head. "I don't like this, Arkytior," he murmured. "Something's not right here, but I don't know what."

He tightened his grip, and the Dreamer could feel his fear. Fear. Something flashed through her mind, but it passed far too quickly for her to register it. She sighed and glanced around the maze from her position in the Doctor's arms.

"I don't like the statues," the Dreamer admitted with a shudder. "They make me nervous. Feels like they're staring at me. The Old Girl doesn't like them either."

"They don't have eyes," the Doctor pointed out. "They can't be staring."

The Dreamer rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Thank you, Captain Obvious," she quipped.

"Hey, lovebirds," Jack's voice floated over from where he and River were inspecting one of the statues. "Planning on joining us any time soon?"

The Dreamer flushed slightly and pulled away from the Doctor's comforting embrace, mourning the loss of his solid strength the instant she lost contact with him. He took her hand and the two moved over to look at the same statue as their friends. The uncomfortable feeling only intensified when the Dreamer stepped closer to the worn stone. She frowned, trying to divine the reason behind the prickling in the back of her mind.

The sound of gunfire rang out, and the time travelers hurried to rejoin the main group, where a young cleric was being berated by Octavian.

"We know what the Angel looks like. Is that the Angel?"

"No, sir."

"No, sir, it is not. According to the Doctor, we are facing an enemy of unknown power and infinite evil, so it would be good, it would be very good, if we could all remain calm in the face of décor."

"What's your name?" the Doctor asked the cleric.

"Bob, sir."

"Ah, that's a great name. I love Bob."

"It's a Sacred name, sir. We all have Sacred names. They are given to us in the service of the Church," Bob explained.

"Sacred Bob," the Doctor mused. "More like Scared Bob now, eh?"

"Yes, sir."

"Ah, good. Scared keeps you fast. Anyone in this room who isn't scared is a moron. Carry on."

"Isn't there a chance this lot's just gonna collapse?" Amy asked as they began to climb the maze. "There's a whole ship up there."

"Incredible builders, the Aplans," River told her.

"I had dinner with the Chief Architect once," the Doctor reminisced. "Two heads are better than one."

The Dreamer snorted. "Don't you mean three heads?" she asked in an undertone. The Doctor grinned at her.

"What, you mean you helped him?" Amy asked, not understanding. "Both of you?"

"No, I mean he had two heads. That book, at the end, what did it say?" the Doctor asked, rapidly switching gears.

The Dreamer frowned as something chimed in her mind. _Two heads..._

The images the TARDIS had sent her earlier suddenly returned. Fear, statues, timelines. She looked around at the statues, not understanding. They looked completely normal.

Wait.

"What if we had ideas that could think for themselves? What if one day our dreams no longer needed us? When these things occur and are held to be true, the time will be upon us. The time of Angels," River read.

The Dreamer shivered, and delved into her mind. She continued to stare straight ahead at the statue, unseeing, until she found what she sought. A memory she had seen when her human Doctor had bonded with her.

_Fascinating race, the Weeping Angels. The only psychopaths in the universe to kill you nicely. No mess, no fuss, just zap you back into the past and let you live to death. The rest of your life used up and blown away in the blink of an eye._

_Timelines. Endless folds and twists, knotted around this place._

_More like Scared Bob, eh? Ah, good. Scared keeps you fast. Anyone in this room who isn't scared is a moron._

_Fear. Pressing, choking, suffocating fear as the light dies._

And that tingling in her mind, getting stronger whenever she approached a statue, screaming at her to stay away. The images the TARDIS had sent involved statues. Not one, but many. She was surrounded by statues. The Dreamer sighed, frustrated at the vague warning. It was an Aplan Moratorium! Of course it would be filled with statues of the Aplans buried here. Of course she was surrounded by statues…

With only one head.

"Rassilon," the Dreamer whispered, staring around her.

The rest of the group were looking worriedly at her, she realized, but she didn't pay them any attention. The Dreamer extended her timesense, seeing the normally invisible timelines, and winced away when she came to those of three clerics. The timelines were knotted, twisted about themselves, and yet strangely complete, devoid of possibilities.

_They're creatures of the abstract. They live off of stolen moments._

And the radiation. _The longer it stays here, the stronger it grows_. The pieces fell into place, and the Dreamer swore.

"Arkytior?" the Doctor's worried voice pierced her thoughts. She opened her eyes, meeting his frightened gaze.

"We need to get out of here now," the Dreamer said in a low voice.

"We have to get to the ship and neutralize the Angel," River protested.

"We'll never make it to the ship," the Dreamer answered. As if on cue, the torch in her hand began to flicker. "Take a look at the statues around you. Statues of long-dead Aplans, yes?"

"Yeah. Rosie, what's wrong?" Jack asked.

"Look at the statues. Just look. Really look." There was a moment of silence. "Penny in the air…" the Dreamer murmured.

"Oh," River said suddenly.

"Oh," the Doctor agreed.

"What's wrong?" Amy asked, still not understanding.

"Oh," Jack said suddenly.

"Penny drops," the Dreamer finished with a slight smile. "Exactly."

"How did we not notice that?" River asked.

"Low-level perception filter, or maybe we're thick," the Doctor said as his torch also began to flicker and die.

"What's wrong, sir?" Octavian asked from behind them.

"Nobody move. Nobody move. Everybody stay exactly where they are. I have made a mistake, and we are all in terrible danger."

"What on Earth are you talking about?" Amy yelled nervously.

"What danger?" asked Octavian.

"The Aplans," River started.

"The Aplans?" Octavian questioned.

"They've got two heads," the Doctor said slowly.

"Yes, I got that. So?"

"So why don't the statues?" the Dreamer finished.

"Oh, my God," Amy whispered.

"Everybody, over there. Don't ask questions, just move," Jack ordered, gesturing to an alcove away from the statues. The group of clerics and time travelers moved silently where he pointed.

"Every statue in this maze is a Weeping Angel, and they're coming after us," the Dreamer said softly. "We're in the middle of an army, and it's waking up."

"There was only the one Angel on the ship. Just the one, I swear," River said.

"Could they have been here already?" Amy asked.

"The Aplans. How did they die out?" the Doctor asked.

"Nobody knows," Jack said.

"We know."

"They don't look like Angels," Octavian said.

"And they're not fast," Amy added. "You said they are fast. They should've had us by now."

"Look at them," the Doctor prompted. "They're dying, losing their form. They must have been down here for ages, starving."

"Losing their image?" Amy asked.

"The crash of the Byzantium wasn't an accident, it was a rescue mission," the Dreamer said in response. "The radiation in the drive burn. The Angels are getting their strength back."

"We need to get out of here fast," River said.

"There's people on this planet. What about them? The Angels will get out and there's nothing to stop them from taking all of the colonists," Jack interjected.

"We need to get to the TARDIS," the Dreamer said. "I can take care of this. Hush," she added abruptly, over her shoulder. The Doctor closed his mouth with an audible snap.

"Alright, we can do this," Amy started nervously. She began to exit the alcove. "We just have to retrace our steps…" her voice trailed off as her torch died. In the alcove, the rest of the torches were extinguished one by one, until the gravity globe was the only light left. As they watched, even that began to dim slightly.

"How do we get out of here?" Octavian asked. "We're surrounded, and they're draining the power."

"Like this," the Dreamer said. She took a deep breath, then reached with her mind.

_Hello, my Heart. It is time, I do believe._

_Indeed, my Wolf. May I use you to pull myself inside the maze?_

_You may, my Heart._

Faintly, the Dreamer heard the distinctive sound of the TARDIS materializing around them, but she was completely immersed in the haunting, wild melody of the TARDIS' song. She opened her eyes, knowing they were gold.

_Shall we, Heart?_

_Let's, Wolf. This pestilence has troubled our Thief for far too long._

There was a moment of charged silence, then the redhead smiled. It was nothing like the usual smiles on her face; it was feral, cruel. The Bad Wolf was awake.

The Angels, led by the one from the ship, were completely surrounding the TARDIS, reaching for the energy inside. The gravity globe had gone out, and the only light came from the inside of the time ship. "I am the Bad Wolf, and you have tried my patience too long. You are parasites, thieves, and you meddle with the web of Time. No more."

There was stunned silence inside the TARDIS as she spoke. When she raised her hand and the Angels began to dissolve into gold dust, one of the clerics fainted, and several gasped. Yet no one spoke, until the Time Lady turned back around.

"The threat has been removed," the Bad Wolf announced in her layered voice.

Abruptly, the golden glow left her, and she collapsed to the grating. The Doctor was by her side in an instant, checking up on her. Jack and River, meanwhile, piloted the TARDIS back to where the clerics' ship was, and the men disembarked.

"I'm sorry, but I have to go," River said softly. "I'll see you at the Pandorica, Doctor. Give Rose my regards." The Doctor nodded, not looking up from the still body of the Dreamer. She was breathing, but very pale.

"I'll see you later, Doc," Jack said. "Take care of her."

"I will," the Doctor said solemnly.

When it was just Amy and the two Time Lords left in the TARDIS, the Doctor rose from the floor and pulled a few levers on the console with none of the usual flourishes. Once the ship was floating through the Vortex, the Time Lord then gently lifted the Dreamer into his arms and carried her to her bedroom–or so Amy assumed. She sighed, the day's events whirling through her mind; however, she kept returning to the one thing that she did not understand at all.

After the Doctor returned to the console room, she took the opportunity to ask him. "Doctor, what's Bad Wolf?"

He froze for a moment, debating how to answer his companion. "Complicated."

"How?"

"Just…very complicated."

**I did my best to keep continuity between this and Blink. In case you couldn’t tell, the 3 clerics (Angelo, Bob, and Christian) who were killed in the side chamber in the episode were displaced. That’s what was weird about their timelines. Thank you to all reviewers, followers, and favoriters!**


	19. Vampires of Venice-Part One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Betaread by batistaangel15 on FF.net

**AN: A bit short… slightly awkward cut off… but I had a heck of a time finding Amy, Rory, and Eleven’s voices for this episode. This is the best I could do, and I slaved over it for a week and a half. Enjoy!**

Vampires of Venice–Part One

"But what do you mean, complicated?" Amy asked for probably the fifteenth time since the Doctor had refused to explain Bad Wolf.

"It's not my story to tell, Pond. Leave it," the Doctor snapped from his place at the console, frustrated.

After the whole mess with the Weeping Angels, the Doctor had sent his companion to bed for some much-needed rest. He had spent the time she'd been asleep alternatively tinkering with the TARDIS and pacing, worried about the third occupant of the ship, who was still unconscious. He couldn't help but be upset with Arkytior, although logically he knew she had done the smart thing. Similarly, although he knew Amy had a right to be curious, he couldn't help but resent her for her constant prying.

Amy pouted. Since waking up, she had tried, unsuccessfully, to get the Doctor to talk. As little as she knew about the Time Lord, she knew even less about his… girlfriend? The time machine she was travelling in was filled with questions. Such as: why are the Doctor and the Dreamer the last of their kind? Why do different people know the Dreamer by the name 'Rose'? What was that whole thing about the Dreamer's mum? And, of course, the biggest one–Bad Wolf.

"Doctor…" she said, in a pleading tone.

"If she's going to be a full-time companion, she has the right to know," a soft voice said from the hallway.

The Doctor's head snapped around so quickly Amy thought it might fly right off his neck. The Dreamer was standing by the corridor entrance, still a bit pale, but she looked much better. He hurried over to her and pulled her into a hug.

"You scared me," the Doctor murmured into her hair.

"I didn't want to risk telling you about it and having you freak out, Theta," the Dreamer responded gently, resting her head on his chest and letting the double thrum of his hearts soothe her. She had had nightmares again, although the TARDIS had tried to help.

"Probably a good idea," the Doctor conceded. "So, you want to tell her about Bad Wolf?"

"Yeah. Let's go to the galley. I'll make tea."

A few moments later, the three sat around the table, mugs of tea in front of them all. Amy looked excited to finally be getting some answers. "The tale begins long ago, near the end of the greatest war in the history of the universe: the Time War. My father, Rassilon, was the founder of Time Lord society. He was corrupt and power-hungry. I opposed his political views, and I was probably the only one who could've stopped him. Rassilon came up with a plan, saying it was to keep me safe; he really just wanted me out of the way. There's this device called a Chameleon Arch that rewrites Time Lord biology, and he used it on me, then integrated me into Earth society. Following me so far?"

Amy nodded. "Yeah, I think so. But what does this have to do with Bad Wolf?"

"I'm getting there," the Dreamer reassured with a light laugh. "I was called Rose Tyler. And when I was nineteen–according to my modified memories–I was about to die in the basement of a shop when a mad man with a box grabbed my hand and told me to run. I traveled with him, an earlier regeneration of him, for about a year, when we landed in the year 200,100. On this satellite called the Game Station, we discovered that Daleks wanted to conquer the Earth. The Doctor sent me home in the TARDIS to protect me." She turned to the Doctor. "By the way, is there an Emergency Programme One set up for Amy?"

"Hmm, no, I don't believe there is," he replied. "I'll have to set one up."

"He sent you away?" Amy asked.

"Yes, he did," the Dreamer said. "I wasn't going to just let that happen, however, and I remembered the Doctor telling me that the TARDIS is telepathic; we'd also had an adventure recently where the Heart of the TARDIS was opened. I decided that if I could open the Heart of the TARDIS, I could get back to the Doctor. So I did. I absorbed the Time Vortex and merged with the Old Girl; we called ourself the Bad Wolf. I turned the Daleks to dust, brought Jack back to life; for a few moments I was a Goddess of Time. Now, as I've returned to the correct species, my mind can handle the power of the Bad Wolf; that's what I did. Used the Time Vortex to destroy the Weeping Angels."

"Wow," Amy said. She fiddled with something on her left hand.

"Is that an engagement ring?" the Dreamer asked, her eyes catching on the nervous movement.

"Yeah," Amy said. "I'm getting married in the morning. Well…" she paused.

"Does he know that you're travelling?"

"No. Can-can we pick him up and take him on an adventure or two?"

"Of course we can, Amy."

OoOoO

"No, you cannot hide in the cake," the Dreamer said with a long-suffering sigh.

"But– " the Doctor sputtered ineffectually.

"No. We'll wait until Rory comes out."

The Doctor pouted. The Dreamer giggled and stood on her toes to give him a light kiss.

"Knowing you, you'd probably fall on your face trying to make an entrance. Not as… nimble as your previous regeneration," she said teasingly.

"Oh, I can be very nimble, Arkytior," the Doctor growled, his eyes darkening. Before he could do anything, however, the door opened and a young man stepped out.

"Rory Williams, right?" the Dreamer asked, recognizing him from the Prisoner Zero debacle. The man hesitated, then nodded.

"It's you two," he said slowly. "The Raggedy Doctor and the Dreamer. The last time you showed up, the world almost ended. What's happening now?"

"Amy's happening," the Doctor groused.

The Dreamer snorted. "What he means, is he wants you to come with us, Rory."

OoOoO

"I like the bit where people say it's bigger on the inside. I always look forward to that," the Doctor grumbled.

Rory frowned.

"Oh, don't mind him, Rory. He gets angry when he doesn't get to show off," the Dreamer said, laughing.

"So, this date," Amy said slowly. "I'm kind of done with running down corridors. What do you think, Rory?"

"What about somewhere romantic?" the Doctor butted in. Amy stuck her tongue out at him.

"It's my date with my fiancé, Raggedy Man. Get your chinny-chin-chin out of my business."

"What is it with you women and my chin?" the Doctor cried crossly, frowning. "Regeneration's a lottery, you know; I didn't purposely choose it!"

That stopped Amy in her tracks. "Regeneration?"

"Rassilon," the Doctor groaned.

The Dreamer smirked but took pity on him. "Amy, after your date I'll explain it to you, alright?"

"It's not like it'll even affect her," the Doctor whined. "I just got this body!"

"And you had your ninth body for what, a year and a half?" the Dreamer countered.

"Sooo, date," Amy butted in.

"I know just the place!" the Doctor crowed. He whirled around the console, flipping levers and pressing buttons. After a moment, however, he paused, looking to where the Dreamer was standing with her arms crossed. "You going to help?" he asked.

The Dreamer rolled her eyes and sauntered over to the console, manipulating controls. The TARDIS groaned, shook, then settled with Her distinctive noise. The Doctor rushed to the doors and flung them open.

"Venice!" he proclaimed grandly, gesturing to the city.

"You sure?" the Dreamer teased.

"Oi! I'm completely sure! Venice, Venezia. La Serenissima. Impossible city. Preposterous city. Founded by refugees running from Attila the Hun. It was just a collection of little wooden huts in the middle of the marsh, but became one of the most powerful cities in the world. Constantly being invaded, constantly flooding, constantly just beautiful. Ah, you got to love Venice. So many people did. Byron, Napoleon, Casanova. Ooo, that reminds me. 1580. That's all right. Casanova doesn't get born for a hundred and forty-five years. Don't want to run into him. I owe him a chicken," the Doctor rambled, completely oblivious to the look Rory was giving him.

"You owe Casanova a chicken?" he finally exclaimed.

"Long story. We had a bet," the Doctor said dismissively.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa," an official of some sort interrupted. "Papers, if you please. Proof of residency, current medical information."

The Doctor pulled out his psychic paper. "There you go, fellow. All to your satisfaction, I think you'll find."

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry, my Lord Count. I didn't realize."

"It's alright," the Doctor reassured the man. "You're just doing your job. Er, sorry, what exactly is your job?"

"Checking for aliens," the man promptly replied. Amy exchanged a look with Rory, then heaved a sigh of relief when the man continued: "Visitors from foreign lands might bring the plague with them."

"Oh, that's nice," Amy said sarcastically. "See where you two bring us? The plague."

"No, we're under quarantine here, Viscountess. No one comes in, no one goes out, and all because of the grace and wisdom of our patron, Signora Rosanna Calvierri."

"I heard the plague died out years ago," the Dreamer said conversationally. She exchanged a glance with the Doctor, and could tell he was thinking the same thing as she was.

"Not out there. No, Signora Calvierri has seen it with her own eyes. Streets are piled high with bodies, she says," the man said, dropping his voice as though he was imparting a great secret.

"Did she now," the Doctor murmured. Rory, meanwhile, snagged the psychic paper from the official and stared at it.

"It says on here that I'm your eunuch," he commented. "Count Doctor–doesn't sound weird at all, that–his wife, Countess Rose--who's Rose?--Viscountess Amy, and their eunuch. I don't even get a name. Just 'the eunuch'." He lifted his head and looked at Amy.

"Uh, I'll explain later," Amy said hurriedly, taking the psychic paper from her fiancé and handing it over to the Doctor.

"Right, then," the Doctor started. He trailed off as a group of girls in identical white dresses and veils began to walk through the streets.

"The Calvierri girls," a young girl said softly from somewhere off to the right. The Dreamer turned to look for her, but was distracted by the sounds of a commotion involving said 'Calvierri girls' and a man.

"Isabella!" the man shouted desperately. The Doctor took off, and the Dreamer whipped her head around to look at Amy and Rory.

"Have fun, enjoy your date, don't get into trouble," she called.

"And what are you two going to do?" Amy challenged.

"Get into trouble," she replied cheekily, then followed after the Doctor.

"I thought everyone knew about the Calvierri school," the man who had caused the commotion was saying as the Dreamer caught up to her fellow Time Lord.

"We're new in town. First day here," the Dreamer stated, reaching out and twining her fingers with the Doctor's.

"Parents do all sorts of things to get their children into good schools. They move house, they change religion. So why are you trying to get her out?" the Doctor asked.

"Something happens in there. Something magical, something evil. My own daughter didn't recognize me. And the girl who pushed me away, her face, like an animal," the man said.

"I think it's time we met this Signora Calvierri," the Doctor said darkly.

"Thank you for your help, Mr…"

"Guido," the man said.

"Thank you, Guido. I promise you, we will get your Isabella out of there," the Dreamer told him, remembering the name he had been shouting.

"Hey, Guido, old chap," the Doctor started brightly. "We could use a little help."

OoOoO

"Tell me the whole plan!" the Doctor shouted desperately.

"That's never going to work, you know," the Dreamer snorted.

"One day! Listen, I would love to stay here. This whole thing. I'm thrilled. This is Christmas," the Doctor rambled as he stumbled backwards towards the stairs.

"Come on, Theta!" the Dreamer shouted from the top of said stairs.

"Right. Coming, dear!" the Doctor called, nearly falling as he ran up the stairs.

The Dreamer grabbed his hand and they took off through the streets, finally nearly smacking into a familiar ginger.

"Doctor!" Amy called.

"I just met some _vampires_ ," the Time Lord enthused.

"We just saw a _vampire_ ," Amy exclaimed at the same time.

"And creepy girls and everything!" the Doctor said happily.

"Vampires."

"We think we just saw a vampire," Rory said as he ran up to join them.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know," the Doctor said. "Amy was just telling me."

"I'd say vampires can't be real, but we did meet a werewolf in Victorian Scotland," the Dreamer said.

"That was a lupine wavelength haemovariform," the Doctor complained. "Not an _actual_ werewolf."

"The Doctor actually went to their house!" Amy was telling Rory.

"The vampires or the werewolf?" he asked, confused.

"Both," the two Time Lords said simultaneously.

"Oh. Right. Well," Rory started, trailing off as he fumbled for words.

"Okay. So, first, we need to get back in there," the Doctor said, determinedly.

"What?" Rory asked.

"How do we do that?" Amy queried curiously.

"We is not going to include you two," the Dreamer interjected. "This is a date, not any old adventure. Go have some fun. Introduce Rory to the novelty of time travel."

"This is the best date I could've asked for. Vampires in Venice? Ha!" Amy exclaimed. "If you don't let us come with you, we'll just investigate on our own. Right, Rory?"

"Uh, yes, right," Rory said, sounding rather unsure about it.

"Alright. Come and meet my new friend," the Doctor said. He hadn't needed much persuasion anyway.

The Dreamer snorted, rolling her eyes, and took his hand as the four time travelers walked to Guido's house.


	20. Vampires of Venice-Part Two

**So, so sorry for being late! I had to go out of town on Thursday afternoon for a horse show, and due to time zone differences, my beta (batistaangel15) was unable to send me the chapter back before I left. I’m super sorry. Here’s the second half of Vampires of Venice. The next adventure will be an original adventure titled “The Slaves of Barcelona” and will be posted on Thursday.**

**Beta-read by batistaangel15.**

**Disclaimer: The usual.**

Vampires of Venice—Part Two

Guido pulled out a vellum map of Venice and spread it over his table for them to see. "As you saw, there's no clear way in. The House of Calvierri is like a fortress, but there's a tunnel underneath it with a ladder and shaft that leads up into the house. I tried to get in once myself, but I hit a trapdoor."

"You need someone on the inside," Amy said.

"No," the Doctor said immediately.

"You don't even know what I was going to say!" the ginger protested.

"Er, that we pretend you're an applicant for the school to get you inside, and tonight you come down and open the trapdoor to let us in."

"Okay, so you did know what I was going to say," Amy said.

"Are you insane?" Rory exclaimed.

"We don't have another option!"

"He said no, Amy. Listen to him."

"Er," Guido interjected. "There is another option." He pointed at the barrels lining the back wall of the room. "I work at the Arsenale. We build the warships for the navy."

The Doctor sniffed one of the barrels and frowned expressively. "Gunpowder. Most people just nick stationery from where they work. Listen, I have a thing for guns and large quantities of explosives."

"Hates guns, but _loves_ blowing things up," the Dreamer chimed in.

"What do you suggest, then?" Guido asked over the Doctor's affronted 'Oi!'. "Wait until they turn her into an animal?"

"I'll be there three, four hours, tops," Amy reminded.

"Alright, everybody, hush," the Dreamer interrupted. "Amy's plan is solid."

"Thank you!" the Scottish girl exclaimed.

"… with one alteration."

"Which is?" the Doctor asked slowly, studying her carefully.

"That I go instead."

Dead silence.

The Dreamer shook her head. "I'm not risking our companion in this situation. We don't actually know what they are… it makes you wonder what's so terrible they don't mind being thought of as vampires. I can defend myself if need be—"

 

"Last time you did that you were out for a day!" the Doctor shouted. "How many can you take down before you pass out?"

The Dreamer sighed, then grabbed the Doctor's hand and pulled him off to the side. She knew he would not be thrilled by her idea, but it was the only method they had. Making and maintaining eye contact with him, she raised her fingers towards his temples. The Doctor nodded once and she went along.

 _Amy and Rory are our companions_ , she thought to him. _We need to keep them safe; there's something very important about their timelines. And since when has my safety been of more importance than humans who cannot even regenerate?_

_Arkytior…_

_Theta, be reasonable._

_I **am** being reasonable. I'm just supposed to watch the woman I love and the only remaining Time Lady just waltz into a nest of maybe—vampires?_

_Yes._

_No! There has to be another way._

_There's one other option, but either way, I have to do this._

_I just got you back, Arkytior_ , the Doctor thought, his vulnerability leaking through. _I can't lose you again. And every time you become the Bad Wolf, I'm terrified that this time, you'll **burn.**_

_I won't burn, Theta. Not ever. Listen, we both know that if Amy got killed, you'd never forgive yourself. And neither would I. Because I didn't stop her. I'll go with Rory; he can pretend to be my brother, maybe?_

_They've already seen you!_

_Not dressed properly in **Venetian** clothing… as much as I hate to change. Unless you think I could nick a perception filter from the TARDIS?_

"Excuse me," Guido called, interrupting the silent conversation. "Ah, what's going on?"

"We're talking," the Dreamer informed him.

" _Were_ talking. Until we got interrupted," the Doctor snarked, glaring slightly.

"Rude," the Dreamer muttered. She pulled her hands down from his temples and sighed. "What's it going to be, then? Perception filter or period dress?"

"What?" Rory asked, looking thoroughly confused.

"Period dress," the Doctor said after a moment. "Be on the safe side."

"Rory, you'll pretend to be my brother."

"What?"

"Guido, do you have some clothes of Isabella's that I can borrow?"

OoOoO

_That was incredibly convincing_ , the Dreamer thought sarcastically, watching Rory stammer his way through their cover story. When he flashed the psychic paper at Signora Rosanna, the woman's eyes narrowed for the briefest of moments. Interesting…

"Francesco, do you like her?" Rosanna asked.

"Oh, I do, Mother. I do," the boy—really, although his body was a young man, his mind was that of a boy—said.

"Then we would be delighted to accept her," Rosanna said, her voice silky-smooth. The Dreamer shivered. "Say goodbye to your sister."

The Dreamer stared helplessly as Rory was practically thrown out. She didn't have much time to linger, however; the steward led her to a room, where there was one other girl. A white dress was laid out on the spare bed.

"Get changed and wait here," the steward commanded.

"Right," the Dreamer muttered under her breath. She turned to the young woman in the room with her. "Hey. I'm Rose. What's your name?"

"Isabella," she said softly.

"Listen to me, Isabella. I swore to your father that I would get you out; but to do so I need to know what happens here."

"They er, they come at night. They gather around my bed, and they take me to a room with this green light and a chair with straps, as if for a surgeon." Isabella stopped, glancing around nervously.

"And then?" the Dreamer prodded gently.

"I wake up here. And the sun burns my skin like candle wax."

The Dreamer swallowed, reaching for the white gown. Somewhere out in the city, a bell tolled ominously.

OoOoO

The Dreamer muttered a Gallifreyan curse under her breath as she was found by the steward, Carlo. She relaxed when he grabbed her, allowing him to pull her where he wished. He took her into the room Isabella had described earlier. With careful maneuvering, the Dreamer was able to get a hand on the sonic screwdriver. She adjusted it to the setting for opening locks and waited as she was strapped into the chair.

"Psychic paper," Rosanna growled as she stalked into the room. "Did you really think that would work on me?"

"Damn," the Dreamer muttered under her breath. "Yes," she said more loudly. "I did."

"Where are you from?"

"Mother, this is pointless," Francesco whined.

"Hold your tongue, Francesco. I need to know what this girl is doing in a world of savages with psychic paper. Who are you with? You see, I scarcely believe your idiot brother sent you. What are you doing in my school?"

The Dreamer laughed. "What's to say I didn't send myself? He's not my brother, by the way."

"It matters not. Who are you and what are you doing in my school?"

The Dreamer smirked. "I've got better technology than you," she sing-songed, before aiming the sonic at her restraints and activating it. Now freed, she stood, and leisurely adjusted the setting. "Who are you, Rosanna? Because you aren't who you seem to be. There's something in the corner of my eye."

"What?" Rosanna gasped. "How?" The Dreamer smiled and pointed the sonic at the woman, pressing the button.

"O-kay, that's not what I was expecting…" she muttered. A voice suddenly rang out from the shadows.

"Oh! Rory, Amy, come on!"

Francesco, Rosanna, and Carlo ran after the Doctor. As soon as the cellar was empty, Isabella hurried in. "The other girls are too far gone. There's nothing left of them. I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault, Izzy," the Dreamer said softly. Isabella, who had earlier confided that she liked the nickname, smiled sadly.

"I know. Come on, we need to get out of here."

The two girls met up with the Doctor, Rory, and Amy in the corridor. With quick use of the Doctor's UV light, they began to make an escape. "Theta, your jacket!" the Dreamer cried suddenly as she saw the sunlight up ahead. "Quickly!"

The Doctor stripped it off without question, throwing the tweed at her. The Dreamer handed to Isabella.

"Hold this above your head like a shield, Izzy, or the sun will burn you."

"Isabella!" Guido called from his gondola.

"Father!" she cried, running to him, keeping the suit jacket between herself and the sun. The Dreamer and the Doctor were the last two in the gondola.

"What now?" the Dreamer asked in an undertone.

"Now, we give them a choice."

OoOoO

"Long way from Saturnyne, aren't you, Sister of the Water?"

Rosanna stared. The Doctor was seated on her throne, the Dreamer—dressed once more in dark jeans, emerald blouse, converse, and black leather jacket—perched on one arm.

"Hello again!" the Dreamer called cheerfully.

"Let me guess. The owner of the psychic paper? Then I take it you're a refugee, like me?"

"I'll make you a deal. An answer for an answer. You're using a perception filter. It doesn't change your features, but manipulates the brainwaves of the person looking at you. But seeing one of you for the first time in, say, a mirror, the brain doesn't know what to fill the gap with, so leaves it blank, hence no reflection," the Doctor stated.

"Your question?" Rosanna asked.

"Why can we see your teeth?"

"Self-preservation overrides the mirage. The subconscious perceives the threat and tries to alert the conscious brain."

"Why do you need the girls?" the Doctor asked.

"My turn. Where are you from?"

"Gallifrey," he answered somberly.

"Both of you? You should be in a museum. Or a mausoleum."

"Why are you here?" the Time Lord responded.

"We ran from the Silence. Why are you here?"

"Wedding present. The Silence?"

"There were cracks. Some were tiny. Some were as big as the sky. Through some we saw worlds and people, and through others we saw Silence and the end of all things. We fled to  
an ocean like ours, and the crack snapped shut behind us. Saturnyne was lost."

"So Earth is to become Saturnyne Mark Two…" the Doctor realized.

"Will you help me?"

"Why do you need the girls?" the Dreamer asked.

"Only the males survived the trip. All I want is to save my people."

"We'll help you," the Dreamer said.

"Arkytior…"

"But not on Earth."

"How, then? We cannot go back to Saturnyne," Rosanna reminded her.

"We can find you a planet. Take your sons and the girls that are fully converted. You can rebuild your race where you won't be destroying any others."

"You'll really help me? You'd do this?"

"I have no desire to see the blood of yet another race on my hands," the Doctor answered her, his eyes old and weary. "Now come on. If we're going to do this, let's get a move on."

OoOoO

"What if she had refused to let us take her to Saturnyne Mark Two, Arkytior?" the Doctor asked.

"We had to give her a choice, Theta," the Dreamer reminded him. "Would you rather have just killed them?"

"No, but…"

"But what? Skip ahead a couple hundred years."

The Doctor did so, and beamed when he saw the civilization.

"We helped make this, Theta," the Dreamer said softly. "You've gotten old. Old and tired. You're forgetting some of your morals."

The Doctor turned his intense gaze on her. "So don't let me," he murmured. "Don't ever let me forget."

"Never," she whispered, and kissed him. That was a promise.

OoOoO

"So you found a planet for the vampires, and let them build an empire?" Amy said disbelievingly.

"Not _vampires_ , Pond. Fish from space," the Doctor reminded her.

"Fish from space," Rory echoed. "They looked human to me. Definitely human." His face reddened slightly.

"I look human," the Dreamer said with a light laugh.

"Yeah, but… you run around the universe in a box!" Rory exclaimed. "They just, er… went to private school and wore white dresses."

"Don't forget the big teeth," the Doctor admonished him. "The reason they looked human is because of perception filters."

"Like what was in my house," Amy said suddenly.

"Yes, exactly, Pond!"

"Sorry about that whole debacle," the Dreamer apologized. "This was supposed to be a peaceful date for you two. We'll just have to try again. Won't we, Theta?"

"I know just the place!" the Doctor proclaimed.

"Where?" Amy wanted to know.

"Barcelona!"


	21. The Slaves of Barcelona-Part One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original adventure time! I took "dogs with no noses" and the name of the planet and ran with it. The plot and aliens are all of my own creation... please respect that.

The Slaves of Barcelona—Part One

“Barcelona?” Amy asked, confused.

“Barcelona! The planet, not the city,” the Doctor exclaimed happily, dancing around the console.

“Apparently they’ve got dogs with no noses there,” the Dreamer added with a smirk. “I say apparently ‘cos we never actually went.”

“Dogs with no noses?” Rory asked, confused.

“I tell you we’re going to an alien planet and you fixate on the fact that the dogs have no noses? Humans.”

“What else?” Amy asked. The Doctor looked at her curiously. “Come on, aren’t you going to give us the full lecture? History of the planet? Everything we never needed to know?”

“"Hush, Pond! Wait and see. Honestly, you humans are always so impatient, can't appreciate the mysteries of the universe when they’re right under your noses. So! 44th century, Spanish, discovered this planet and named it after themselves. Obviously. Back in the 41st century, the Spanish Empire ruled half the earth, and the arts capital was Barcelona, the city. Barcelona, the planet is home to the greatest collection of art in the universe. You’ve got thousands of species contributing, and it’s also one of the most peaceful planets ever populated by humans.”

“Dogs with no noses?” Rory said again.

“Rory, Rory, Rory. Did you hear a thing I just said?”

“Uhh, sorry. I wasn’t really listening.”

“So we’re going to an art museum planet?” Amy asked.

“Correct, Pond! The biggest, best art museum planet in the history of art museum planets!”

“It must be fairly impressive, then,” the Dreamer said. She pressed a couple buttons on the console, stabilizing the TARDIS’ flight. The ship shook as she landed.  
“We’re in El Prado, the capital city, home of the largest museum on the entire planet. Ready, Rory? First time on a planet other than Earth; are you excited?” the Doctor asked. 

“Yeah. Right, definitely. You’re sure there aren’t any dangerous creatures out there?” the nurse said nervously.

“Absolutely. Now come on, out you go.”

“Rule Number One,” Amy muttered under her breath. The Dreamer looked over questioningly. “The Doctor lies. River told me that. At the Byzantium.”

“Rule Number One used to be ‘Don’t wander off’…” the Dreamer murmured. She sighed. “He’s grown older, colder, harder; I just hope I can get him back.”

“If anyone can, it’s you. I’ll drag Rory off and give you some time alone with him, okay?”

“Well, this is supposed to make up for the disaster that was your date in Venice. Go right ahead.”

Amy darted out of the TARDIS and stopped dead. “Wow.”

The Dreamer followed behind and looked around, curious. They had landed in a small alley just off the side of a large square. The winding streets and orderly squares were paved with something reminiscent of cobblestone. An ornate, graceful fountain bubbled and laughed at the very center of the square. 

The buildings were incredible feats of architecture, brightly coloured, with an abundance of glass and wood. “Wow,” the Dreamer echoed, taking a deep breath of the fresh, clean air, scented with a faint hint of wildflowers. “It’s beautiful.”

“See, Rory? Perfectly safe,” the Doctor boasted proudly. The Dreamer rolled her eyes.

“One would think that you’d learn to stop saying things like that. I’m pretty sure that at least half our adventures turn into running for our lives because someone makes the comment about it being safe as houses.”

Amy snorted. “Right, then. Get your trouble-magnet self away from me. You botched up the last date badly enough. C’mon, Rory!” The Scottish girl winked covertly at the Dreamer as she dragged her fiancé off into the winding streets of El Prado.

The Doctor muttered something that sounded suspiciously like “women” under his breath before reaching to grab her hand. “Looks like we’re on our own for this trip,” he commented.

“Appears that way,” the Dreamer agreed. “Shall we take a look around?”

“Would Dame Arkytior care to accompany me on a completely trouble-free tour?” th Doctor asked formally.

“You just had to say that,” the Dreamer muttered. “Of course, Sir Doctor,” she added louder, with a tongue-touched grin.

“This is the most peaceful planet in human history!” the Doctor cried, affronted. “Absolutely nothing can go wrong!”

OoOoO

“What was that about nothing can go wrong?” the Dreamer yelled at the Doctor several hours later, as they ran for their lives through the twisting side streets of El Prado.

“This is one of the most peaceful planets in the universe!” the Doctor shouted back. “I honestly don’t know what’s going on!”

“Are you sure we’re in the 44th century?”

“Of course!” the Doctor exclaimed. “The Old Girl made a special effort to bring us here at the right time!”

The Dreamer rounded a sharp corner and nearly careened into a man dressed in ragged brown garments, huddled against the wall of a building bordering the narrow alleyway. “Sorry,” she called out over her shoulder as she ran on. At last, even with her respiratory bypass engaged, her lungs were burning, and she slowed to a halt. “Think we lost them,” she gasped out to the Doctor.

“I don’t understand this, and I understand everything,” he mused. “There’s nothing, no disturbances, at all in Barcelona’s history.” The Doctor frowned, thinking, and then suddenly, he tensed. “Wait. Rassilon,” he swore. “We’ve got to go. Get Amy and Rory and come back in a later century. We’re both in terrible danger.”

“What from? It’s _Barcelona_ ,” the Dreamer answered. “Anyway, wouldn’t Amy and Rory be in danger as well?”

“No— “ the Doctor started to respond, turning to face her. He paled and his eyes widened. “Arkytior, behind you!”

The Dreamer spun around in time to catch a powerful blow to the head. She slammed to the ground and fell into blackness.

OoOoO

The Dreamer awakened to a pounding headache and the feel of chains wrapped around her wrists. She forced her eyes open, groaning softly as the light sent a sharp pain through her head. Looking around, she noticed that she was in a bare room, rather small, with no windows or furniture. The grey stone walls were broken in only one place, where a door with highly advanced tech was tightly sealed. The Dreamer was chained to the wall to the right of the door. Another quick glance around the room, and she spotted the Doctor chained to the far wall, watching her.

“Are you alright?” he asked softly. She sighed and closed her eyes.

“How long?” she asked.

“I woke up thirteen minutes ago,” the Doctor responded. “I don’t know how long we’ve been here, but I’d estimate it’s been at least three hours.”

The Dreamer sighed heavily. “What were you about to tell me, before I got knocked out?”

The Doctor pinched his lips together. “Major disturbances. There’s only ever been one in the history of Barcelona… and it looks like we’ve been caught up in the middle of it.”

A whirring sound emanated from the door, followed by a series of clicks. It slid silently back into the wall and a tall, humanoid creature entered the room. He looked at both the Doctor and the Dreamer, scrutinizing them, then approached the Dreamer with a predatory gleam in his eyes.

“The female is identified as the weaker. You will be processed first.”

“Processed?” the Dreamer demanded. “What does that mean, processed? What do you want with us? Who are you?”

“Speech is not required,” the man told her. “However, I will answer your questions. I am Calan of the Rijoraxi.” He raised a hand casually to her temple and lightly touched it, brushing her red hair back. The Dreamer recoiled at the light brush of Calan’s mind against her shields. “You felt that?” Calan said, sounding surprised.

“Of course I did!” the Dreamer exclaimed. “It’s generally considered polite to ask permission before attempting to enter someone’s mind!” 

“This has nothing to do with politeness. It’s about profit.”

“What?”

“Welcome to the Barcelonian black market. There’s a massive demand for perfect slaves, and my partner and I have devised the ultimate solution,” Calan boasted. He smirked slightly. “It’s simple to take telepathic beings and remove the fight from their minds. You will be the next to be processed.”

With that, Calan once again put his fingers against the Dreamer’s temple. She took a deep breath and made eye contact. Once again, she felt the gentle pressure of his mind against her shields. For a while, she easily maintained her shields with no effort, but Calan was clearly an expert in mental battles, and she began to grow tired.

Meanwhile, the Doctor was watching with obvious anxiety and fear. The Dreamer was strong—one of the strongest telepaths he had ever met, even without the Bad Wolf—and if the lines around her eyes and lips were any indication, she was having to actively work on defending her mind. Any creature that could do such to a Time Lady was incredibly powerful—and incredibly dangerous. The Doctor was under no illusions. He remembered his history now, and knew what was occurring. He also knew that he would be next; and there were secrets in his mind that should never be told.

The Rijoraxi—why did that name sound familiar? The Doctor wracked his brain in search of the information that he knew was there. Ah. The Rijoraxi, strongest natural telepaths in the universe. Their planet, Isol, was destroyed in the Time War. It hadn’t been much of a loss; the Rijoraxi were power-hungry, greedy, profit-seeking, and ruthless, and their telepathic capabilities made them rivals of the Time Lords. Apparently, at least two of them had escaped the fire that burned Isol.

And the Barcelonian black market! How could he have forgotten about that? He was not worried about his companions; neither Amy nor Rory were telepathic, being human, and the slave trade hiding in the shadows had only involved telepathic species. 

Such as Time Lords.

A sudden, horrible thought occurred to him, and he couldn’t help but shudder slightly. If the last of the Time Lords had just met the last of the Rijoraxi, and it was discovered that they were, in fact, Time Lords… who knew what would happen?

The Dreamer sucked in a sharp, ragged breath that the Doctor could hear from across the room. He focused on her face and was not reassured by what he saw there. She was pale, the strain showing in every line of her face, and quite tense, although fierce defiance and determination burned clearly in her green eyes.

“Stop,” the Doctor finally ground out. “Leave her alone. _Process_ me first,” he spat the word out like it was poison.

Calan turned, taking in the look on the Doctor’s face. A slow, cruel smile spread across his face.

“No.”

OoOoO

“What’s the point of having a mobile if you don’t carry it with you?” Amy complained, returning her mobile to her pocket for the third time.

“No answer?” Rory asked, already knowing what the response would be.

“Nothing.”

“Maybe they just… lost track of time or something?” Rory offered.

“Time Lords don’t just lose track of time, stupid face. The Dreamer told me. They actually feel time passing.” Amy stood and began to pace in front of Rory, who remained seated on the edge of the fountain where they were to meet the Doctor and the Dreamer. “No, something’s wrong, something serious. I just know it. Trouble follows them around like a puppy. Let’s go back to the TARDIS. We’ll give them until the morning, then we’re going after them.”

“Are you sure?” Rory asked worriedly. Amy gave him a hard stare.

“Absolutely.”

OoOoO

Four hours had ticked by with little change. At one point, the Doctor had tried to convince Calan to stop but had not been successful. The pressure on her mind had never let up, never varied. Slowly, inexorably, the Rijoraxi was wearing down her shields, and the sensation terrified her.

The Dreamer took another shaky breath and focused all her energy on using Bad Wolf to bolster her failing defenses. The TARDIS hummed worriedly in the back of her mind, offering strength that could only last for so long. She had originally thought that with the strength of the TARDIS, she could outlast Calan. But the steady, gentle pressure took far less exertion than actively maintaining impenetrable shields, and the Rijoraxi had admirable stamina.

Even as this thought formed, her walls fell further inward, and a crack spread across them. The Dreamer closed her eyes and clenched her jaw, desperately filling in the cracks. The cracks, however, appeared faster than she could fill them, and Calan took advantage of this, slipping a probe through one of the worst cracks. The Dreamer began to panic and she reached for something, anything, that would help her. She could feel the sudden fright of the TARDIS, and she stretched towards that connection. Before she could utilize it, however, Calan increased the pressure just a touch on one of the cracks, and her shields shattered. An invasive, compressing force swarmed into her mind, violating her and taking brutal pleasure in causing her pain. It rampaged through her memories, ripping apart her mind with no regard to what was torn and broken. Memories were inspected, the useful information absorbed, and then remains thrown away like useless trash. The force of the assault overwhelmed the Dreamer’s sensitive telepathic centers and she spiraled into unconsciousness, her last act being the construction of a golden wall between herself and the TARDIS. A wall made of Vortex energy, a wall that could not be breached.

The Doctor tensed when he saw the Dreamer’s eyes close, breaking the stare for the first time in several hours of sparring. A moment later, she cried out softly, a shout of pain, despair, and fear that chilled him to his bones. The Dreamer slumped suddenly, her head lolling to the side, and Calan removed his hands from her temples and turned towards the Doctor. There was a twisted glee in his eyes and his mouth stretched in a wide grin.

“Time Lords? The last living Time Lords in the universe? What a prize! I do not believe that we will sell you. No indeed. A much more… appropriate fate awaits the destructors of Isol.” Calan pulled a device from his pocket and activated it. The chains fell from both the Doctor’s and the Dreamer’s wrists, and the Time Lord immediately hurried across the room to the Dreamer’s side, cradling her in his arms. “Such devotion you’ve inspired in her. Such loyalty. I am impressed, truly I am. Sleep well, Time Lord. You and I will have our battle in the morning.”

OoOoO

The TARDIS flashed Her lights at the Pretty One and the Water. They could not hear Her song, not like Her Wolf and Her Thief could. Silly little strays. Why Her Thief kept bringing them aboard when his mate was returned to him, She did not know. But in this instance, She was grateful for the strays, because Her Wolf and Her Thief were in the gravest of dangers, and the Pretty One and the Water were the only ones who could save them.

“Why are the lights flashing?” the Pretty One asked. He was always confused, but he was very pretty. And more receptive to Her song than the Water. “Amy, do you feel that?”

“The TARDIS is alive,” the Water said. “I don’t really know anything beyond that. What do you feel? I don’t feel anything out of the ordinary.”

“Almost… afraid,” the Pretty One said. Almost? If the TARDIS had had eyes, She would have rolled them, like Her Wolf did when Her Thief was being thick. She blasted the Pretty One with all of the panic and terror and feelings with no names in Her heart. And the awareness of danger, **terrible danger** and **My Wolf and My Thief** and **fear PANIC** and suddenly the Pretty One staggered and nearly fell, clutching at Her wall for support.

“Rory? What’s wrong?” the Water asked.

“F-f-fear,” the Pretty One said, trembling. “And danger. I think the Doctor and the Dreamer are in danger. We have to go help.”

“How do you know that?” the Water demanded, tossing her hair over her shoulder. The TARDIS flashed Her lights again, and comprehension dawned on the Water’s face. “Oh. The TARDIS told you?”

“I guess,” the Pretty One answered uncertainly. The TARDIS shuddered suddenly, Her song becoming fraught with fear and tension, as an impenetrable wall blocked off Her bond with Her Wolf.

_Thief!_ She sang. _My Thief, what is wrong with My Wolf? Thief!_

Her Thief did not answer, and the only thing radiating from him was horror, terror, pain, and anger, all mixed into a jumbled mire of utter despair.

The TARDIS had never felt afraid for Her own life, even when Her Thief wanted to take his own after the War.

The TARDIS had never felt this before, and there was nothing She could do to save Her Thief and Her Wolf.

She was alone.


	22. The Slaves of Barcelona-Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'd by batistaangel15 on FF.net

**AN: Early post because I’m going out of town tomorrow. Here’s the last installment of our original adventure! I would greatly appreciate feedback. Was it interesting enough? This chapter is mostly centered around Amy and Rory. Following will be a short interlude of introspection before the events of Hungry Earth and Cold Blood.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who, nor do any of the characters recognizable belong to me. It’s all owned by the BBC. ((the plot is mine however and I would please appreciate it if no one steals it. Or the original aliens, at least not without permission))**

The Slaves of Barcelona—Part Two

"Arkytior? Please wake up," the Dreamer heard as though from the end of a long tunnel. She recognized the voice, but could not put a name to it. Her mind was chaotic and disorganized, and she felt very strange. Memories came slowly trickling back, and she shuddered inwardly as she recalled the Rijoraxi's violation of her mind.

"Theta," she whispered faintly. The Dreamer slowly opened her eyes and the world swam into focus. The Doctor's worried face hovered over her and she felt his arms surrounding her. "Theta, what…?"

"Shh, shh," the Doctor whispered soothingly. "It's okay, I've got you."

The Dreamer closed her eyes and nestled her head against the Doctor's chest, taking a deep breath. She felt sick. "Head hurts," she murmured. "I—can't think."

"He raped your mind," the Doctor said darkly, furious. "Something so…so _inexplicable_ , and verboten."

The venom in his voice sent shivers through her body. "What 'bout you?" she asked. "Did he do—anything—to you?"

"Not yet," the Doctor said quietly. "I'm afraid he's not done with you. Arkytior…"

"I'll be okay. I don't… I don't think I can do it again, though," she whimpered, fear in her voice. "It hurts."

The Doctor's arms tightened protectively. "There is a way…to keep them out of both our minds," he said slowly, hesitantly.

"What is it?" the Dreamer asked. "Please, Theta, I can't—it was _horrible_."

"Neither of us have shields strong enough, but together…" the Doctor swallowed. "I could form a provisional bond. It wouldn't be like the full marriage bond; just enough to mesh our shields together. We wouldn't be able to communicate without skin-on-skin contact, and it would be breakable."

"Do it," the Dreamer said, her face still tucked against the Doctor's chest. "Please."

"I'll have to enter your mind," he said carefully, one hand moving to lightly stroke her hair. "Will you be okay with that?"

"I trust you, Theta Sigma, my Doctor. Always." She lifted her head a touch, allowing the Time Lord to see the sincerity in her eyes. " _Always_ ," she repeated, in Gallifreyan, using the variation of the word that would be roughly translated to: 'without end, through all of Time, no matter the form I am in'.

The Doctor took a breath, awed by the trust she had in him, then rested his fingertips on her temple and delved into her mind. It was a shattered mess. He felt the Storm rising within him as he looked at what had been done, the anger boiling in his blood.

_Focus, Theta. It cannot be undone._

The Doctor smiled slightly at the gentle chastising, and returned to his task. It took just a moment to create the bond, but not to complete. He could already feel the tugging of the incomplete bond, driving him to finish it, but he would not do so.

The Dreamer sighed as she felt the incomplete bond slide into place. The dark blue of the Doctor's mind hovered just at the edges of hers, sending love and comfort, suffocating the pain. Without it, the Dreamer realized just how exhausted she was. The Doctor laid down, and she rested her head on his chest, curling into him. He wrapped his arms tightly around her and hummed a Gallifreyan lullaby until, at last, she fell asleep.

OoOoO

Night had fallen, and Amy and Rory had gone back to the TARDIS, not wanting to spend the night on an unfamiliar planet without the Time Lords to guide them. Both were growing increasingly worried, especially with the TARDIS being so upset.

"Tomorrow morning, we'll ask around," Amy said firmly. "We have an unlimited credit stick; maybe we can use it to bribe people into talking? The Doctor said this planet is peaceful, but if there's anyone who'd know about the real going-ons, it'd be the homeless. We just have to find them and convince them to talk."

Rory nodded. "You act like this is all normal to you. It is, isn't it? You do this every day."

"Trouble just kind of… happens everywhere those two are," Amy acknowledged.

"Why'd you send them off on their own?" Rory questioned. "If they get into trouble so easily. Why not keep an eye on them?"

"Because she needed some alone time with him, stupid face." Amy grabbed Rory and pulled him closer to her. "Just like I need alone time with you." She pressed her lips against his and they spoke no more of the Doctor or the Dreamer that night.

OoOoO

The Dreamer awakened to the dark blue presence of the Doctor in her mind, radiating love and reassurances. Did she have nightmares? She didn't know. Typically, she did… but she didn't typically fall asleep curled against one Theta Sigma. With him in her mind.

 _I could get used to this_ , she thought. Shifting, she felt the scrape of the concrete—or whatever passed for concrete in the 44th century—beneath her and memories surged back. "Theta?"

"Shh," the Doctor whispered softly. He took her hand and reached for their unfinished bond. _There are guards outside the cell. Other slaves, really. I spoke to them when they came in to check on us in the middle of the night. None of them really like what they're doing, but they've been conditioned so that they cannot disobey anyone who ranks above them._

 _How can the Rijoraxi do that?_ The Dreamer wondered. She could feel the Doctor's worry, as well as his annoyance.

 _I don't know,_ the Doctor admitted, his frustration echoing across their link at her. _Arkytior, I'm afraid. I don't know how we're going to get out of this one. And Amy and Rory are stranded here._

The Dreamer sighed. The Doctor's fear—for her, for himself, for their companions—was a bright mauve cloud, rapidly overtaking his mind. She tried to sooth him, but it was hard when her own fear was beginning to skyrocket.

The door began to unlock, and both Time Lords tensed. The Dreamer sent the Doctor a rush of love and gratitude and calm. _No matter what happens here today, Theta, remember that I love you._

_And I you, Arkytior. And I, you._

OoOoO

"Rory, we can't just sit around and wait any longer. They could be hurt!" Amy exclaimed.

"So this is what the Doctor does," Rory said quietly.

"What?"

"He makes people want to impress him. So they don't want to let him down. And he has no idea how dangerous he makes people to themselves when he's around."

"Oh, shut up, stupid face. That's not true and you know it. The Doctor and the Dreamer, they show you a better world, a better way of living. Let you see the big picture instead of focusing on yourself. Rory, please."

"It's not safe, Amy!" Rory protested.

"Nothing ever is!" the Scottish redhead retorted. She sighed heavily. "Look, they're our friends, Rory. Without them we can't get home, either. We've got to help."

"Okay," Rory finally said.

"Okay?"

"Okay."

OoOoO

The Doctor was angry.

Very, very angry.

In fact, he was hard-pressed to remember a time in his—extremely—long life where he'd been this angry.

Calan was beyond cruel. Having entered to see their position on the floor, the Rijoraxi had smirked and ordered them dragged apart. The Doctor now knew that, for as long as they were in captivity, he would not be able to touch his Arkytior again. This, of course, was only the beginning. The partial bond had worked as it was supposed to, keeping the telepath out of both of their minds, but Calan did not like this at all. Mental abuse was impossible.

So the psychopathic alien turned to physical torture. And this, this was bad. It wasn't just the pain still lingering in his body—it was being forced to watch Arkytior endure such torment while he was powerless to stop it.

Meanwhile, the Dreamer had floated far away, isolating herself in memories of peaceful times back on Gallifrey. Oh, it was going to hurt when she woke back up, she knew. But immersing herself in her mind was the only way that she knew of to cope well with the pain.

Hours passed, with Calan alternating between the Time Lords, taking his rage out on both of them in more and more painful ways. At last, however, the Rijoraxi was called away to deal with other slaves, and they were left alone.

The Dreamer slowly crawled to the ends of the chains wrapped about her, the Doctor mirroring her movements. If they both stretched, their fingertips brushed against each other. The Time Lady sighed as she felt the Doctor's comforting dark blue presence in her mind once again.

 _I'm sorry you had to watch_ , she told him wordlessly.

 _I'm sorry you had to go through that. I wish I could take the pain away._ The Doctor was angry, she noted, at their captors, but most of all at himself. His guilt shone clearly through their link.

_It's not your fault, Theta._

_I brought us here. I should've known better._

_Hush. Don't focus on that. How are we going to get out?_

_I don't know, Arkytior. I really do not know._

OoOoO

The man in the thin brown rags devoured his meal frantically, as though he was afraid it would be taken from him. At last, he lifted his head for a moment and spoke. "Aye, if you be wantin' to know about the hidden city, I's your man."

"We have a couple friends," Amy started slowly. "They brought us here. We were supposed to meet them yesterday evening, but they never showed up. Which is not like them at all," the ginger hurried to add.

"Your friends. Be they telepathic? Talkin' wif their minds," the man clarified, greedily stuffing more food in his mouth.

"Yeah. Yeah, they are," Amy confirmed.

"Aye, that's it then. They be gone. They be sold on the black market soon as they be broke."

"The black market?"

"You be off-worlders. Everyone knows."

"Off-worlders, yeah, that's us," Rory interjected nervously. "And, as you can tell, we really don't know, so if you could just explain to us, that would be nice…"

"It be slave trade. Calan the slaver run it. I be told that once broke, slave must obey orders given to them. Your friends, be they red green woman in leather and brown green man with jacket?"

Amy frowned, trying to decipher the man's muddled speech. "Yeah," she said slowly, as his strange descriptions organized themselves in her mind.

"I see them be got. Red green woman ran against me in chase," the beggar said.

"The Dreamer," Amy whispered. "Please, they're our friends. They brought us here as a special trip, and we can't get home without them. Would you help us?"

OoOoO

The TARDIS searched anxiously through Her rooms. There was a sheet of psychic paper somewhere, She knew, as well as clothing that would closely approximate what She had seen the guards wearing, before Her Wolf had shut Her out. The Pretty One, the Water, and the Thin Man would need the outfits and the paper if they were going to rescue Her Thief and Wolf. She finally found the things She searched for, dropping them on the jump seat just as the Water entered.

"Hey, uh, I know you can hear me," the Water started slowly. Her eyes fell on the clothes. "Are we supposed to wear those? Flash the lights once for yes and twice for no."

The TARDIS flashed the lights a single time, Her hum tinged with admiration for the Water's brilliance. She was not as bad as some of the strays Her Thief had brought home before; very few of them had actually found a way to communicate with Her. The Water found the psychic paper and looked at it for a moment.

"Is this psychic paper?" she asked the ceiling. The TARDIS flashed the lights again and the Water smiled. "Thought so. Right. You, you said that the slaves have to obey orders given to them, right?"

"That be true, red girl."

"Right then," the Water said determinedly. "Here's the plan…"

OoOoO

Amy shifted nervously as she approached the building. Her new friend had led her straight here and was waiting to guide them back to the TARDIS when they'd finished the rescue.  
Biting her lip, the Scottish girl held the billfold of psychic paper up to the scanner on the door, praying to whatever deities were in existence that it would work.

After a second of charged silence, the door opened noiselessly. Amy strode in, followed by Rory, trying to act as though they belonged here. The plan was risky, but it was the best chance they had of rescuing the Time Lords. Stepping up to the first cell, Amy scanned the psychic paper, grinning when the door opened. A young man was curled inside, looking absolutely devastated.

"I don't wanna," he moaned, before catching sight of Amy. "Who're you?"

"I'm gonna free you," she whispered quietly. "But for now, you need to obey me. I rank above you. I'm a guard, see?" She showed him the psychic paper and the young man nodded.

"What must I do?"

"Wait until we get a few others free, then cause a massive distraction. As big as you can."

Amy turned and moved on to the next cell, repeating the process, until about ten slaves had been released. Then she began to search for the room where the Time Lords were being held. Amy was walking along another hallway, occasionally pausing to free slaves, when her mobile went off. She raised it to her ear.

"Rory?"

"Amy, I found the Doctor and the Dreamer's stuff. I'm going back to the entrance. Is it working?"

"Yeah," Amy said. "I think."

"Right, well. I'll see you—"

"Wait!" Amy exclaimed. "They might need the sonic. I need to get it from you. This is where I am, far as I can tell…"

OoOoO

The Dreamer lifted her head wearily when the door began to open, expecting to see Calan returning from whatever had called him away earlier. Instead, she was met with a familiar ginger's face. "Amy?" she whispered faintly.

"Oh my god," the Scottish girl exclaimed, taking in the blood and bruises. "D-Dreamer?" She turned and saw the Doctor sprawled against the wall in a sitting position. "Doctor? What happened to you?"

"'E got mad," the Dreamer managed through gritted teeth.

Amy stared for a minute, before reaching into her pocket and pulling out the Doctor's sonic. She tossed it to said Time Lord, who immediately undid his restraints and hurried across the cell.

"We don't have very long. There's some prisoners making a diversion right now, but I don't know how long that'll last. We need to get back to the TARDIS," Amy informed them.

The Dreamer could hardly focus on her companion's words as pain overwhelmed her senses. "Theta," she got out "it hurts." She pressed her hands to her head in an effort to stifle the pain.

"Arkytior? Just hang on a minute. C'mon, love," the Doctor whispered, the term of endearment slipping out without him realizing it.

He gently unlocked the handcuffs and helped the Dreamer to her feet. She leaned heavily on him and sighed in sudden relief as the skin-to-skin contact made the bond flare to life, the Doctor's presence in her mind soothing the ache remaining from the telepathic assault and subsequent trauma.

"Okay. Let's get the hell out of here," the Dreamer murmured quietly.

The Doctor tightened his hands on her, and they followed their ginger companion through a myriad of corridors to the door.

OoOoO

"So there're space fish, and now you're telling me there's space _rhinos_?" Rory exclaimed disbelievingly.

"Yep. Now hush, and get back to… nursing," the Doctor answered him brusquely, gesticulating wildly with his arms before finally settling on a verb.

Rory sighed and dutifully turned back to the Dreamer, who was rather unhappily being subjected to the ministrations of the dermal regenerator, despite having refused to leave the console room while the Rijoraxi were still on the loose.

"Stop coddling me," the ginger woman snapped irritably. "Theta, have you made contact with the Shadow Proclamation yet?"

"I have. The Judoon are on the way," the Doctor replied. "I guess I know why the Old Girl put so much effort into landing us in this time period."

"I guess," the Dreamer agreed. "Theta, can we go somewhere relaxing?"

"Like where?"

"Rio!" Amy interjected. "I've always wanted to go to Rio. C'mon, Rory, let's go get dressed."

"But-I didn't—" the Doctor sputtered ineffectually. "Oh, alright, fine. Rio it is."


	23. Interlude: Things Left Unsaid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thanks to my beta, bastistaangel15, for her work on this chapter. A short, introspective interlude before the Hungry Earth. 
> 
> I'm anticipating no more than 10 chapters left in this fic. I'm not planning on rewriting Vincent and the Doctor as I'm afraid I'd ruin it, and the Pandorica arc will be quite different from canon. There will be a sequel coming up, fyi.

Interlude: Things Left Unsaid

The Doctor sighed and scrubbed his hands down his face, momentarily left alone with his thoughts. Gathering everything in his mind was what he needed, even though he wished he could go back and erase what he and his Arkytior went through. Obviously, he couldn't. Ironic how Time Lords can't do that. It had been a rough adventure, and they could all use a break. The Time Lord headed into his en suite, looking forward to an actual shower after the ordeal of the past two days. Standing under the hot water, with nothing to distract himself, the Doctor could feel the pulling of the incomplete bond he'd formed with Arkytior, urging him to finish it.

The thought of his…his Arkytior, his Rose, brought to mind the telepathic attack. To forcibly enter the mind of any creature was a highly offensive crime, but to do so to a telepathic species warranted a death penalty in much of the universe. Something so vial and immoral could only lead to the appropriate punishment, something so sickening it turned the Doctor's stomach.

He shuddered, remembering Calan's twisted glee, the mess he'd made of her mind, and how much pain she'd been in. He tried his hardest to push the images of her suffering, her muffled cries, her anguish, to the back of his head. But he couldn't. It was burned into his memory and would haunt him for the rest of his long life, no matter how hard he tried to block it out.

The bond tugged at him again, but he pushed it away. It wasn't anything annoying or anything, it just felt like an itch he couldn't scratch properly. If that made sense. Eventually it would get to the point where it was nearly impossible to ignore, he knew, but he'd deal with that when it happened. For now, he'd just deal with what was done. The Doctor sighed. He'd once been ready to bond with Arkytior, and he still was, but there was no way that she would be ready to deal with the intimate joining of their minds now, so soon after the attack. The very last thing he would want to do is inadvertently push her away from him with something so powerful. He couldn't do that to her now. They weren't ready just yet.

He'd just have to wait. He could do that. He's waited so long to have her in his life, then he could be patient and keep the urge to bond at bay for the time being until the appropriate time. His dear Arkytior needed to take some time and recover from the terrible and inexcusable acts that were forced upon her against her will. She needed to heal herself and regain her bearings, and he would help her through it. And then, when the time was right, he would attempt to pursue the bond.

Sighing again, the Doctor shut the shower off and dressed before heading to the console room, prepping for landing.

OoOoO

The Dreamer stretched luxuriously under the the hot water as the spray cascaded down upon her. The TARDIS kept it at the perfect temperature for soothing her sore muscles, bless the sentient ship. She also was broadcasting calm and warmth, as though hoping to ease the pain in her mind, which made her feel that much more content. As she thought that, the TARDIS hummed an affirmation, and the Dreamer smiled, sending her thanks.

The longer she was around the Doctor, she realized abruptly, the less she felt like 'the Dreamer' and the more like 'Arkytior'. She had only began going by a title when they had been forbidden to speak to each other, and now that they were together again, and the only ones left of their kind, it seemed silly to continue to refer to herself as the Dreamer. While both titles were a part of who she was, it was when she was called Arkytior by the Doctor that she felt truly like herself. It may seem barmy to think of something like that, but it was the truth.

The compelling pull of the unfinished bond the Doctor had initiated distracted her from her musings. The gentle tug felt serene, in a sense. Like she was perfectly fine with having the connection. It was only partial, and not as intense and permanent as the actual joining of the minds, something she had wanted. She sighed, knowing that while she longed for such a connection with him, that both the intimacy of it and the darkness inside her would drive him away. Assuming he would even acknowledge the bond's existence. Her Doctor was quite good at ignoring things he wasn't ready to accept.

He couldn't really deny it though, could he? Not accepting it, maybe, but he had to acknowledge its presence since it wasn't hard to miss. She wished she could reach out to him through an even deeper bond, but it couldn't happen yet. She didn't want to overwhelm him with what her mind has to offer. But one day, she would want to initiate it. At least talk to him about it.

With a small smile on her lips, the Dreamer pulled on her clothing, which was clean and neatly folded on the bed. She stroked the wall in thanks and made her way to the console room; however, her quiet thoughts were not forgotten, merely left to sit in the back of her mind.

OoOoO

The TARDIS, were She in a human body, would've huffed, shook Her head, and rolled Her eyes at the thoughts bouncing around in Her Wolf's and Her Thief's minds. Her Thief was determined to believe that none would want him, and that Her Wolf was unready to accept him. He, of course, was very wrong. Her Wolf, too, was wrong to think that Her Thief was prepared to dismiss the bond. They were like twin stars, dancing around each other, each afraid to make the first move. The TARDIS was pleased as She noted a temporal disturbance where one shouldn't be. Looking at the potential timelines, She saw that it was the perfect adventure to force Her Time Lords to take the last step. Humming happily, She adjusted the coordinates and prepared to land.

OoOoO

The Doctor pulled a lever, twisted a dial, adjusted a knob, and then grinned widely. "Rio, here we come!" he proclaimed.

Amy clutched the edge of the jump seat as the TARDIS shuddered wildly. Her eyes flickered between the Doctor and the Dreamer. They stood close together, piloting the time ship, but were being extremely careful not to touch. Amy narrowed her eyes at that; the two were almost always touching. More than usual. What had happened in that prison cell? Everything happened so fast when they escaped, but there looked to be something more, something that shook them both up. Were they injured? Afraid of something? She didn't know.

She wanted to ask them about what had happened while they were in that cell, but she stopped herself. She didn't want to trigger anything harmful, if that was the reason for their behavior. As much as she wanted to keep quiet, she still wanted to at least help them out. She was their friend, after all, and friends needed to be there for each other. While travelling with the Doctor and the Dreamer though, she's noted how they barely talked about themselves, very rarely in fact. They kept secrets, as everyone naturally does, but they had to have experienced something while in that prison cell.

The TARDIS landed with a jolt, sending Rory sprawling onto the stairs, where he had been standing. "Ouch," he muttered reproachfully, shooting a look at the console. "Is it always that rough?"

"He failed his TARDIS piloting test," the Dreamer said in response, turning to shoot the nurse a grin. "And anyway, they are meant to be flown by six people."

"Really?" Rory asked.

"Of course you did, Raggedy Man," Amy said with a snort, latching onto a different bit of information. "Is that why…" she trailed off and opened the doors, then laughed as the sight presented to her went perfectly with her thoughts. "Is that why we never end up where we're supposed to?"

"Rio!" the Doctor said grandly, gesturing out the doors. "Oi, I'll have you know, I've been driving this ship for nine hundred years. I'd like to see you do better!" He looked outside, then frowned. "Oo-kay, definitely not Rio."

"Not really getting the sunshine carnival vibe," Rory called from outside.

The Doctor stepped outside and looked around. "Ooh, feel that," he said, jumping slightly. "That's weird."

Amy shared a knowing grin with the Dreamer. “Trouble?” she asked the Doctor.

He grinned maniacally. “Just you wait and see.”


	24. The Hungry Earth-Part One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, drama!
> 
> Beta-read by batistaangel15 on FF.net. She's awesome.
> 
> From now on, any speech (telepathically or aloud) that's **bold** is in Gallifreyan.

The Hungry Earth-Part One

"We can leave," the Doctor said in a low voice. "Get back in the TARDIS and pretend we never came here."

"Something's wrong, Theta. We aren't leaving. I'll be fine," the Dreamer answered him. "Now, what's weird?"

"The ground feels weird. Blue grass. Patches of it all around the graveyard. So, Earth, 2020-ish, ten years in your future, wrong continent for Rio, I'll admit, but it's not a massive overshoot."

"Why're those people waving at us?" Amy asked, looking over at a ridge nearby.

"Can't be," the Doctor exclaimed. He pulled a pair of binoculars from his trans-dimensional pockets and put them to his eyes. "It is!" he yelped.

"Is what?" the Dreamer asked.

"It's you two," he answered, gesturing at Amy and Rory.

"No, we're here," Rory said, confused. "How can we be up there?"

"Ten years in your future. Come to relive past glories, I'd imagine. Humans, you're so nostalgic." The Dreamer laughed at the look on Rory's face.

"But he can't even get us to Rio. How's he going to get us back home?" the nurse asked his fiancé.

"Unlike him, I passed my test," the Dreamer told him.

"Oi," the Doctor said with a side-eye.

"Hey, let's go and talk to them. We can say hi to future us. How cool is that?" Amy exclaimed.

"Er, no, best not. Really best not. These things get complicated very quickly, and oh look. Big mining thing. Oh, I love a big mining thing. See, way better than Rio. Rio doesn't have a big mining thing," the Doctor rambled, already moving in the direction of the digging site.

"Stop distracting me, Raggedy Man!" Amy shouted, annoyed. "This is not Rio. I'm dressed for Rio, not some weird graveyard. It's freezing!"

"Why don't you and Rory go change?" the Dreamer suggested diplomatically. "I'll go with Theta and investigate this 'big mining thing'."

"Sounds good," Amy said, grabbing Rory and dragging him back into the TARDIS.

The Dreamer reached out and took the Doctor's hand. "Lead on, Theta."

A moment later, the two Time Lords paused in front of the gates. "Restricted access. No unauthorised personnel. Hmm," the Doctor pretended to think for a moment, then sonicked the gate.

"That's breaking and entering, Theta. For shame," the Dreamer teased with a smile.

"What did I break? Sonicking and entering. Totally different," the Doctor argued.

"If you say so. Come on, then."

They entered a large building via a tunnel, and the Doctor hesitated a moment to jump up and down, testing the ground beneath them. "What about now? Can you feel it now?"

The Dreamer frowned and imitated his actions. "Ye-es," she said slowly. "I think I can. That's… odd." She almost reached for his hand, then caught herself, knowing the direct physical contact would be pushing his boundaries. His mental privacy was more important than her desire to touch him.

"What's in here?" the Doctor asked, bounding into a storeroom. The Dreamer followed, albeit more slowly. "Hello?"

"Who're you?" a woman asked. "And what are you doing here?"

"Ministry of Drills, Earth and Science. New Ministry, quite big, just merged. It's lot of responsibility on our shoulders. Don't like to talk about it." The Doctor flashed the psychic paper. "What are you doing?" He headed straight for the computers clustered on one side of the room, breezing by her.

"None of your business," the woman said sharply.

"Where are you getting these readings from?"

"Under the soil."

"The drill's up and running again. What's going on? Who are these people?" a man asked as he entered the computer room.

"The Doctor and Arkytior," the Dreamer said absently as she peered at the computer screen over the Doctor's shoulder. "That's strange…"

"Arriketore?" the man repeated, mangling the Gallifreyan word so terribly that both Time Lords flinched.

"… Rose," the Dreamer decided abruptly. "Call me Rose. I'll answer to it."

"Why's there a big patch of earth in the middle of your floor?" the Doctor demanded suddenly.

"We—we don't know," the woman responded. "It just appeared there overnight."

"Good. Right. You all need to get out of here very fast."

"Why?" the woman asked.

"What's your name?"

"Nasreen Chaudhry."

"Look at your screens. Look at the readings, Nasreen. It's moving."

"Hey, that's specialised equipment. Get away from it," the man said.

The Dreamer frowned as she noticed something. "This steam," she started, looking at the patch of earth. "I don't think it's a good thing."

"No, you're right. It's shifting when it shouldn't be shifting," the Doctor agreed. The ground rumbled ominously.

"What's shifting?" Nasreen demanded, a hint of fear in her tone. "What is it?"

"The ground, the soil, the earth, moving. But why? How?" the Doctor wondered, crouching down beside the Dreamer.

"Earthquake?" the man, whose name had yet to be mentioned, proposed.

"Doubt it," the Dreamer muttered. "It's only happening here, under this room."

Several new holes appeared from out of nowhere and the Doctor frowned. "It knows we're here. The ground. It's attacking us."

"No, no, that's not possible!" Nasreen exclaimed desperately.

"Under the circumstances, I'd suggest… Run!" the Doctor shouted.

The four followed his advice, skirting holes and coughing in the thick steam. "Tony!" Nasreen screamed suddenly.

The Dreamer turned to see the man's foot catch in a patch of earth. Ground that was alive, this was new for them. Without thinking, she hurdled one of the gaping holes and moved to help him. "It's okay, I've got you," she soothed, helping him out. "Stay back from the earth, both of you."

She went to return to the front when, glancing down, she noticed a hole that had opened under her feet. She tried to move, but she felt stuck in place. Her eyes widened when she felt something beginning to pull on her.

"Theta," she called tentatively.

The Doctor turned at the sound of his name, his face full of worry. "Arkytior, stay away from it!" he cried.

"It's pulling me down," she whispered, barely audible over the drilling. She tried to keep herself calm, but the Doctor looked to be in more need for that.

He was in front of her in a blink of an eye. "I've got you," he said reassuringly.

The Doctor trembled as Arkytior's wide green eyes stared into his own, equal parts fear and absolute trust in them. He took her hands, feeling the bond open wide. He gripped her tightly, not so much to hurt her, but enough to make sure she wouldn't fall from him.

"Don't let go," she pleaded.

"Never," he swore. His grip tightened as she sank deeper into the earth.

"What—what is it?" the Dreamer managed to get out. "Why's it doing this?"

"Stay calm. Keep hold of my hand. Don't let go," the Doctor answered. He knew his fear was projecting, but he didn't care, desperately clinging to the Time Lady's hands like a lifeline. He kept his breathing steady, but she was slowly slipping lower. He turned towards the humans. "Your drill, shut it down. Go. Now!"

They fled the room.

"Can you get me out?" the Dreamer asked, her voice remarkably steady, considering she was nearly to her waist in hostile soil.

"If you struggle, it'll make it worse. Just stay calm," the Doctor responded, sending calm across their link. "I'm not going to let you go." His voice was like steel.

The Dreamer's grip slipped at that precise moment, and she fell further into the ground. The Doctor caught her again, falling to his knees in front of her. "Arkytior!" he cried, bracing himself.

"It's pulling me down! Something's pulling me down, I can feel it," she babbled. "Please, Theta, I don't want to go down. I don't want to suffocate under there. Please!"

"Hold on! Just hold on, until they shut off the drill. That's all," the Doctor gabbed. "Just hold on!"

"I can't," the Dreamer choked out, in tears.

The Doctor felt her grip begin to loosen, and his hearts were tugging down with her entire body. "Don't you give up! Don't you dare!" he cried out.

 _I love you_ , she sent, with a wave of everything: her longings, and love, and desire, and total faith. **_Always._**

 ** _I love you,_** he sent back, the Gallifreyan permanence of it taking her breath away.

She had ended up deeper underneath the soil, up to her shoulders. And she was going even more. The Doctor didn't dare let go of her, but his grip, no matter how tight he kept it, wasn't putting up a fight against what was pulling her down. It couldn't have been anything too harmless, at least he prayed that it wasn't. He'd much rather it be himself stuck in the earth than her, but there wasn't anything he could do.

"I'm going down, aren't I?" the Dreamer asked calmly.

He nodded regretfully. "I'll fix this, I promise," he vowed. "I'll see you soon," he breathed, leaning in to brush a kiss across her lips.

She smiled. "Not if I see you first."

Unable to hold onto him anymore, she slid all the way down into the earth, leaving the Doctor to stare at the hole as it closed up. He stood to his feet, determined to fix the issue.

OoOoO

Meanwhile, Amy and Rory had been waylaid by a young mother and her son, Ambrose and Elliot. Apparently, they had called the police after discovering that Ambrose's aunt's body had disappeared from the grave without it ever being opened. Now they were having tea with Elliot while looking at the grave.

"There's only one explanation, far as I can see," Elliot explained.

"What's that, then?" Rory asked.

"The graves eat people. Devour them whole, leaving no trace."

"Believe it or not, that's not the strangest thing I've heard," Amy muttered under her breath.

"They didn't steal the body from above. They couldn't have got in from the sides. Only other thing is, they get in from underneath." Elliot continued his speculations, which, Amy was forced to admit, were thorough. And made quite a lot of sense.

"Not very likely though," Rory responded with a frown.

"When you've eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth." Elliot delivered this statement with the air of someone proclaiming absolute truth.

"Sorry?" Rory asked.

"Sherlock Holmes. Got the audiobook. The graves 'round here eat people."

"Sounds like something the Doctor would say," Amy decided. "We need his help."

OoOoO

"You said the ground was dormant. Just a patch of earth when you saw it this morning. And the drill had been stopped," the Doctor remembered.

"That's right," the man, Tony Mack, confirmed with a nod.

"But when you restarted the drill, the ground fought back."

"So what, the ground wants us to stop drilling?" Nasreen scoffed. "That is ridiculous."

"I'm not saying that, and it's not ridiculous, I just don't think it's right. Oh, of course. It's bio-programming," the Doctor crowed, snapping his fingers.

"What?"

"Bio-programming. Oh, it's clever. You use bio-signals to resonate the internal molecular structure of natural objects. It's mainly used in engineering and construction, mostly jungle planets, but that's way in the future and not here. What's it doing here?" the Doctor wondered.

"Sorry, did you say jungle planets?" Nasreen asked.

"You're not making any sense, man," Mack complained.

"Excuse me, I'm making perfect sense. You're just not keeping up. The earth, the ground beneath our feet, was bio-programmed to attack."

"Yeah, even if that were possible, which it's not, by the way, why?"

"Stop you drilling," the Doctor replied with indifference. "Okay, so we find whatever's doing the bio-programming, we can find Arkytior. We can get her back." He paused, tilting his head, as a faint noise made itself clear. "Shush, shush, shush. Have I gone mad? I've gone mad."

"Doctor," Nasreen started cautiously.

"Shush, shush. Absolute silence. You stopped the drill, right?" the Time Lord asked.

"Yes."

"And you've only got one drill?"

"Yes."

"You sure about that?"

"Yes!"

"So, if you shut the drill down… why can I still hear drilling?"

Nasreen and Tony froze.

"It's under the earth," the Doctor said, his ear against the ground. He stood again.

"That's not possible!" Tony exclaimed. The Doctor withdrew his sonic and turned it on, running it over the nearby computers. "What are you doing?"

"Hacking into your records. Probe reports, samples, sensors. Good. Just unite the data, make it all one big conversation. Let's have a look. So, we are here and this is your drill hole. Twenty-one point zero zero nine kilometres. Well done," he commented.

"Thank you. It's taken a long time," Nasreen informed him, a hint of pride in her voice.

"Why here, though? Why'd you drill on this site?"

"We found patches of grass here, containing trace minerals not found in this country for twenty million years."

"The blue grass? Oh, Nasreen," the Doctor said sadly. "Those trace minerals weren't X marking the spot, saying dig here. They were a warning. Stay away. Because while you've been drilling down, somebody else has been drilling up." Just after he finished speaking, the computer screen cleared, revealing the data the Doctor had been looking for. "Oh, beautiful. Network of tunnels all the way down."

"No, no, we've surveyed that area," Tony protested.

"You only saw what you wanted to see," the Doctor told him darkly.

"What are they?" Nasreen wanted to know.

"Heat signals. Wait, dual readings, hot and cold, doesn't make sense. And now they're moving. Fast. How many people live nearby?"

"Just my daughter and her family," Nasreen said. "The rest of the workers travel in."

"Grab this equipment and follow me."

"Why? What are we doing?"

"That noise isn't a drill, it's transport. Three of them, thirty kilometres down. Rate of speed looks about a hundred and fifty kilometres an hour. Should be here in ooo, quite soon. Twelve minutes. Whatever bio-programmed the Earth is on its way up, now."

OoOoO

"Where's the Dreamer?" Amy asked curiously as the Doctor approached.

"The ground took her," the Doctor said quietly, voice thick with pain. At that moment, red lightning splintered across the sky. "No, no, no!" he cried.

"Whoa, did you see that?" Nasreen exclaimed. The Doctor ignored her, digging a slingshot from his dimensionally transcendent pockets and slinging a stone at the sky. It hit an energy shield and vaporized.

"Energy signal originating from under the earth. We're trapped," the Time Lord realized.

"Doctor, there's something weird going on here. The graves are eating people," Rory informed him as he joined Amy.

"Not _now,_ Rory."

"You said trapped?" Amy realized.

"Energy barricade, invisible to the naked eye. No one can get in, no one can get out. We're trapped. And we've got nine-and-a-half minutes."

"Nine-and-a-half minutes until what?"

"Until whatever's at the centre of the earth is here."


	25. The Hungry Earth-Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta-read by batistaangel15. I still don't own Doctor Who.

 

The Hungry Earth-Part Two

The Dreamer opened her eyes to see that she was in a glass coffin of sorts. There was a faint bitter tang in the back of her mouth that didn't bode well—a drug of some sort that was designed to induce unconsciousness in humans; who knew what it would do to a Time Lady. "Hello?" she called out.

A dark figure bent over the top of her coffin, just visible as a blur through the glass. It stared down at her for a moment, then adjusted something. The Dreamer heard the hissing that signaled gas being pumped into the coffin and hurriedly engaged her respiratory bypass. Concentrating, desperate to escape, she focused the power of the Time Vortex on the lid of the coffin, dissolving it into dust. She quickly climbed out, sucking great breaths of fresh, drug-free air, and turned to the figure.

"Oh, look at you," she breathed. "I didn't know you still existed!"

OoOoO

"So we can't get out, we can't contact anyone, and something, the something that took my husband, is coming up through the Earth," Ambrose said disbelievingly.

"Yes," the Doctor answered somberly. "If we move quickly enough, we can be ready."

"No, stop," Ambrose ordered. "This has gone far enough. What is this?"

"He's telling the truth, love," Tony said sadly.

"Come on. It's not the first time we've had no mobile or phone signals. Reception's always rubbish."

"Look, Ambrose. We saw the Doctor's friend get taken, okay?" Nareen stated. "You saw the lightning in the sky. I have seen the impossible today, and the only person who's made any sense of it for me, is the Doctor."

"Him?"

"Me," the Doctor said firmly, a hint of the Oncoming Storm darkening his green eyes.

"Can you get my dad back?" Elliot asked.

"Yes. But I need you to trust me and do exactly as I say from this second onwards, because we're running out of time."

"So tell us what to do," Ambrose said, her doubts allayed for the moment.

"Thank you. We have eight minutes to set up a line of defense. Bring me every phone, every camera, every piece of recording or transmitting equipment you can find. Every burglar alarm, every movement sensor, every security light. I want the whole area covered with sensors."

The four adult humans scurried around, gathering the tech and depositing it at the Doctor's feet. He proceeded to set up the equipment so that it covered the entirety of the graveyard and church, feeding into the computer.

"Right, guys, we need to be ready for whatever's coming up. I need a map of the village marking where the cameras are going," the Doctor announced as he prepared to have the adults take the remaining surveillance equipment outside of the immediate vicinity of the church.

"I can't do the words. I'm dyslexic," Elliot said quietly. Even as he imparted this information, the young boy was already pulling pencil and paper out.

"Oh, that's all right, I can't make a decent meringue," the Doctor told him. "Draw like your life depends on it, Elliot."

"Six minutes forty," Tony said just before he rushed out the door, leaving the Doctor alone with Elliot.

With five minutes to go, the set-up was complete. "Works in quadrants. Every movement sensor and trip light we've got. If anything moves, we'll know," Tony stated.

"Good lad," the Doctor praised, grinning brightly. He headed outside, looking around for what other resources he could find.

Four minutes.

Ambrose walked over to where the Doctor was inspecting her Meals on Wheels van. "Oi! What're you doing?"

"Resources," the Doctor informed her. "Every little bit helps. Meals on Wheels. What have we got here? Warmer in front, refrigerated in back."

"Bit chilly for a hideout, mind," Ambrose said as she dropped an armful of rifles and a cricket bat onto the front seat.

"What are those?" the Doctor asked.

"Like you said, every little bit helps."

"No, no weapons. It's not the way I do things," the Doctor said quietly, trying to ignore the temptation to grab a gun and run into the TARDIS to scan for Arkytior.

He could feel the faintest of tingles in the back of his mind, where the incomplete bond resided, that told him she was alive. He thought she might have regained consciousness, having quite obviously been knocked out earlier, but couldn't quite tell. It was a bit too fuzzy.

"You said we need to defend ourselves," Ambrose said stubbornly.

"You're better than this, Ambrose," the Doctor said with a sigh, thinking of how easily Arkytior would've talked the woman down. "I'm asking you nicely. Put them away."

Ambrose didn't answer, but she looked to be considering it, so the Doctor turned and re-entered the church. Elliot ran in with his map just after him. The Doctor turned to him, his internal clock ticking down. Three and a half minutes.

"Look at that. Perfect. Dyslexia never stopped Da Vinci or Einstein. It's not stopping you," the Time Lord complimented, looking over the map. It was indeed well-drawn.

"I don't understand what you're going to do," Elliot said. The Doctor grinned, pulling out his 'lecture voice', always eager for an opportunity to explain himself.

"Two phase plan. First, the sensors and cameras will tell us when something arrives. Second, if something does arrive, I use this to send a sonic pulse through that network of devices. A pulse which would temporarily incapacitate most things in the universe."

"Knock 'em out. Cool," Elliot said, smiling shyly.

"Lovely place to grow up, 'round here," the Doctor said, switching topics. Elliot kept up easily.

"Suppose. I want to live in a city one day. Soon as I'm old enough, I'll be off."

"I was the same way," he answered, thinking about Gallifrey and his childhood. The instant he'd been able to steal the TARDIS, he had.

"Did you get away?"

"Yeah."

"Do you ever miss it?" Elliot was genuinely curious.

"Yeah," the Doctor said again, his voice thick with unshed tears, thinking about Gallifrey going up in smoke. Burning, always burning. "So much."

Elliot seemed to sense his reluctance to continue speaking and changing the subject. "Is it monsters coming? Have you met monsters before?"

"Yeah," he responded, blinking away the moisture in his eyes.

"Are you scared of the monsters?"

"No. The monsters are scared of me," the Doctor told the young boy. He grinned.

"I forgot my headphones," Elliot said suddenly, taking off.

"Talkative once you get him going, I see," Amy observed, wandering over. "How much longer?"

"One minute. Less," the Doctor answered.

"It's getting darker," Rory called from outside. The Doctor went to look. "How can it be getting dark so quickly?"

"Shutting out light from within the barricade. Trying to isolate us in the dark. Which means it's here," he said, his words echoed by an ominous rumbling. He and Rory moved to the church porch, and the Doctor tried to open the door.

"I can't open it. It keeps sticking. The wood's warped," Ambrose said over her shoulder as he approached.

"Any time you want to help," the Doctor muttered, driving his shoulder into the stubborn door.

"Can't you sonic it?" Rory asked sensibly.

"It doesn't do wood."

"That is rubbish."

"Oi! Don't diss the sonic," the Doctor exclaimed. Maybe one day he could try and make it compatible with wood. With Rory's help, they managed to force the door open, entering the church once more. Inside the church, everything was shaking. "Let's see if we can get a fix," the Doctor said to himself as he looked over the equipment.

The lights exploded suddenly, and someone swore. "No power," Tony Mack called out.

"It's deliberate," the Doctor answered, sighing.

"What do we do now?" Rory wanted to know.

"Nothing. We've got nothing. They sent a power surge to wreck our systems."

"Raggedy Man, don't you dare start giving up," Amy snapped. "The Dreamer is down there with whatever's here, remember?"

"I remember," the Doctor responded in a similar vein.

"Where's Elliot? Has anyone seen Elliot? Did he come in? Was he in when the door was shut? Who counted him back in? Who saw him last?" Ambrose shouted, interrupting them. "Elliot!"

"I did," the Doctor said slowly. "He said he was going to get his headphones."

"Mum! Grandpa Tony! Let me in!" a voice shouted from outside.

"Elliot!" Ambrose exclaimed, running to the door.

"Open the door. Mum? There's something out here!"

"Someone help me," Ambrose gasped out. The Doctor and Tony rushed over to her aid.

"Push, Elliot. Give it a shove," Ambrose ordered firmly as they struggled to get the warped door open.

"Mum, hurry up. Mum," Elliot said. The door finally came open.

Elliot was nowhere to be found.

Ambrose sprinted off into the graveyard, followed by Tony. Something attacked them, stinging Tony, and the Doctor finally caught up to them to see Ambrose wailing over her son's headphones.

"He's dead," Ambrose cried.

"I don't think so. They've taken three people when they could've just killed them up here. There's still hope, Ambrose. There is always hope."

"Easy for you to say," she shot back tearfully. "They didn't take your son and husband."

"No, they haven't," the Doctor said. "But they took the woman I love, who will one day be my wife if she wants it, and don't you think that you even begin to know the amount of pain that caused me."

"My pain is double whatever yours could possibly be!" Ambrose cried out.

The Doctor stiffened, the Storm starting to build in his green eyes. "No. It isn't."

With that, he nodded to Rory and Amy, who managed to get the sobbing woman and her father inside the church, allowing him to begin to search for a solution. A few minutes later, the Doctor had a frozen reptile-like creature in the crypt of the church. Refusing Amy and Rory's offers of help, he descended alone.

"I think we scared them off," Amy said as he stepped downwards.

"I don't think so," the Doctor answered stonily. "Now both sides have hostages. See if you can calm that Ambrose woman down. I don't do well with hysterical human females."

He turned and entered the room. The prisoner moved out of the shadows, facing him.

"I'm the Doctor. I've come to talk. I'm going to remove your mask." The Doctor leaned forward, carefully doing as he said. "You are beautiful. Remnant of a bygone age on planet Earth. And by the way, lovely mode of travel. Geothermal currents projecting you up through a network of tunnels. Gorgeous. Mind if I sit? Now. Your people have a friend of mine. I want her back. Why did you come to the surface? What do you want? Oh, I do hate a monologue. Give us a bit back. How many are you?"

"I'm the last of my species," the lizard woman said.

"Really. No. Last of the species. The Klempari Defence. As an interrogation defence, it's a bit old hat, I'm afraid."

"I'm the last of my species," she repeated, as though he hadn't said anything.

The Doctor's face darkened. "No, you're really not." He leaned forward, voice dropping even further, silence like a blanket of fog falling over them both--Time itself hushed, waiting, holding its breath. "Because I've been the last of my species for a very long time and I know how it sits in a heart. So don't. Insult. Me."  
  
He drew in a breath, the strange and alien look passing from his face like it was never there, human once more, the ages of eternity gone from his eyes. "Let's start again. Tell me your name." 

"Alaya," she finally said.

"How long has your tribe been sleeping under the Earth, Alaya? It's not difficult to work out. You're three hundred million years out of your comfort zone. Question is, what woke you now?"

"We were attacked," Alaya said, lifting her chin belligerently.

"The drill," the Doctor realized.

"Our sensors detected a threat to our life support systems. The warrior class was activated to prevent the assault. We will wipe the vermin from the surface and reclaim our planet."

"Do you really have to say vermin?" he asked, wincing. "They're really very nice."

"Primitive apes," Alaya spat.

"Extraordinary species. You attack them, they'll fight back. But, there's a peace to be brokered here. I can help you with that."

"We lived here before the apes. The land is ours."

"Doesn't give you automatic rights to it now, I'm afraid," the Doctor said apologetically. "The humans won't just give it up."

"So we destroy them," Alaya said simply.

"You underestimate them."

"You underestimate us!"

"One tribe of homo reptilia against six billion humans? You've got your work cut out."

"We did not initiate combat, but we can still win," she said proudly.

"Tell me where my—friend is," the Doctor said. "Give us back the people who were taken."

"No."

"I'm not going let you provoke a war, Alaya. There'll be no battle here today."

"The fire of war is already lit. There will be a massacre."

"Not while I'm here."

"I'll gladly die for my cause," Alaya said. "What will you sacrifice for yours?"

The Doctor left, shaking his head, and returned to the main room of the church. "I'm going to go down and negotiate with the rest of the tribe," he told the humans.

"You're going to negotiate with these aliens?" Ambrose exclaimed.

"They're not aliens. They're Earth-liens. Once known as the Silurian race, or, some would argue, Eocenes, or Homo Reptilia. Not monsters, not evil. Well, only as evil as you are. The previous owners of the planet, that's all. Look, from their point of view, you're the invaders. Your drill was threatening their settlement. Now, the creature in the crypt. Her name's Alaya. She's one of their warriors, and she's my best bargaining chip. I need her alive. If she lives, so do Elliot and Mo and Arkytior, because I will find them. While I'm gone, you five people, in this church, in this corner of planet Earth, you have to be the best of humanity." The Doctor looked around at them, his voice grave.

"And what if they come back?" asked Tony. "Shouldn't we be examining this creature, dissecting it, looking for its weak points?"

"No dissecting, no examining. We return their hostage, they return ours, nobody gets harmed. We can land this together, if you are the best you can be. You are decent, brilliant people. Nobody dies today. Understand?"

Nasreen applauded, then followed the Doctor as he headed to the TARDIS. "No, sorry, no. What are you doing?"

"Coming with you," she said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"It'll be dangerous," the Doctor said.

"So's crossing the road."

"Oh, alright, fine," the Doctor said. He entered, followed by Nasreen. "Welcome aboard the TARDIS. She's very precious. Don't touch anything."

The TARDIS rattled, knocking them off their feet. "Did you touch something?" the Doctor asked.

"No. Isn't this what it does?"

"They're pulling us down, into the ground," the Doctor realized. "Geronimo!"


	26. Cold Blood-Part One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eternal thanks, gratitude, and half my profit (just kidding! I don't make a profit) go to my beta, batistaangel15, who is a saint and dealt with me through a 3-week hiatus and writer's block. Also thanks to mltrefry, who let me complain about it to her, gave me advice, and didn't get mad.

Cold Blood—Part One

_This is the story of our planet, Earth. Of the day a thousand years past when we came to share it with a race know as Humanity. It is the story of the Doctor, who helped our races find common ground, and the terrible losses he suffered. It is the story of our past and must never be forgotten._

"This place is enormous and deserted. The majority of the race are probably still asleep. We need to find Arkytior," the Doctor said as he and Nasreen investigated the underground tunnels in which they'd found themselves after the TARDIS was dragged down.

"But Doctor, how can all this be here?" Nasreen gestured around her, her eyes wide." I mean, these plants."

"Must be getting closer to the centre of the city," he answered, then stopped walking, closing his eyes as he felt the insistent tugging of the incomplete bond suddenly strengthen incredibly. "This way!"

"You're sure this is the best way to enter?" Nasreen asked, looking at him doubtfully.

"Front door approach. Definitely. Always the best way," he said, grinning.

 _"Hostile life forms detected in area seventeen,"_ a computer voice echoed, alarms blaring.

"Apart from the back door approach. That's also good. Sometimes better," he babbled nervously.

"Doctor?" Nasreen called, directing his attention to the warriors surrounding them on all sides.

"We're not hostile. We're not armed. We're here in peace!" he exclaimed desperately.

The warriors didn't care. One of them stepped forward, aiming his weapon at the Doctor's head. Before he could attempt to pacify again, a cloud of gas enveloped the Time Lord's face, and he blacked out.

OoOoO

"What do you make of these scans, ape?" one of the Silurians asked the Dreamer.

She rolled her eyes. "How many times do I have to tell you I'm not human? My scans aren't going to match his. Let the poor man out."

Mo stared at her, shaking his head. "No, no, I'm fine. While they have me, they don't need you."

She snorted, but otherwise remained silent. After a moment, the scientist, responding to a message from a colleague, ran off, leaving them unguarded. With a tongue-touched grin, the Dreamer pulled the sonic from where she'd stashed it, managing to flick through the settings and discover the right one to undo her restraints.

"C'mon, Mo, let's get out of here," she proclaimed.

They began to wander through the halls, the Dreamer focusing on her mind. The bond had strengthened exponentially a few minutes ago, leading her to believe that the Doctor had found his way down, and she tried to track him.

"That creature, do you think it was an alien?" Mo asked curiously. "Any more of them, do you think? Do you think the Earth's been invaded?"

"I don't know what's going on up there," the Dreamer answered. "The lizards are called Silurians. They inhabited the earth before you humans came along. My guess is that the drill was taken as an action of war… I need to get back to the surface, really, to see what's happening, but the friend of mine who can help us is down here somewhere."

"How do you know all that?" he asked.

"Um." Before the Dreamer could come up with an answer, she frowned when she felt the bond dim abruptly. The Doctor felt like he had been asleep. "He must've been gassed," she muttered.

"What?"

"Nothing. I wonder where this leads?" she said, directing Mo's attention to a panel situated just to the left of a dark door.

Switching on the sonic, she fiddled around for a moment, and suddenly, the screen lit up. A light appeared behind the door, revealing a young boy. "Oh my God, no!" Mo cried out.

"What?"

"That's my son, Elliot! What've they done to him? He's in there. We have to get him out. Elliot? Elliot, it's Dad."

"Easy, Mo," the Dreamer soothed. She indicated the screen.

"See this? It's monitoring vital signs. He'll be alright. He's still alive."

"All right. We find weapons, get that creature from the lab and force it to release Elliot, yeah?" Mo demanded, a strange light in his eyes.

"We'll get him out," she answered softly, internally wincing at the thought of weapons—the Doctor had rubbed off on her.

"Promise."

OoOoO

"You lied to me!" Ambrose raged. Rory shifted away from her, nervously. "You told me you were police!" Her hands tightened on Elliot's headphones.

"No," Amy intervened, stepping closer. "You _assumed_ we were police. We never _told_ you anything." She rolled her eyes. "Besides, you mean to tell me you thought that the dork in the nerdy professor's outfit was _police_?"

"Who are you? You and the Doctor? Why is this happening to us? What did we ever do?" Ambrose demanded, her voice shrill.

"The Doctor'll get your son back," Rory said, trying to placate her. "I promise."

"We've got to take turns guarding the lizard," Amy added.

"Oh, so that's it? We just sit and wait."

"And then we exchange her for your family. I promise you, Ambrose, I trust the Doctor with my life. We stick to his plan. We keep that creature safe."

"Remember," Amy said quietly, "you aren't the only one who's had people you love taken."

"You keep saying that," Ambrose snapped. "So what, the mysterious Doctor has a girlfriend?"

"She's more than that," Rory interjected. "I think she's his soulmate."

OoOoO

"How can they have escaped? This proves all prisoners should remain under military guard," a female Silurian snapped angrily.

"I'm sure you'd prefer to be in charge of everything and everyone, Restac, but we rank the same. Is there any word from Alaya?" the scientist asked.

The Doctor frowned. The prisoners—that had to be Ambrose's husband and Arkytior. He felt hope blooming in his chest.

"It's fine to show concern, you know. She's part of your gene-chain. I'm decontaminating now," the scientist said.

"Decontamination?" he squeaked. "No, no, no!" A burning pain spread through him and he groaned. "Arghh!"

"It's all right, it won't harm you. I'm only neutralising all your ape bacteria," Malohkeh, the scientist, said patiently. The Doctor gritted his teeth.

"I'm not an ape, look at the scans. Two hearts. Totally different. Totally not ape! Remove all human germs, you remove half the things keeping me alive," he babbled frantically.

Malohkeh turned off the machine after a moment's perusal of his scans, then frowned. "You're like the woman with the red hair."

"Oh, that's much better, thanks. Not got any celery, have you? No. No, not really the climate. Tomatoes, though. You'd do a roaring trade in those. I'm the Doctor. Oh, and there's—wait, what?" The Doctor froze midsentence as the Silurian's words registered. "I'm sorry, did you say red hair? What have you done to her?"

"We have done nothing to her," the scientist said tranquilly. "She seems to know a great deal about us."

"Hmm," the Doctor murmured. The other Silurian caught his eye. "Hello. Who are you?"

"Restac. Military commander," the young female said proudly.

"Oh, dear, really? There's always a military, isn't there?"

"Your weapon was attacking the oxygen pockets above the city," Malohkeh informed him.

"Oxygen pockets, lovely. Ooo, but not so good with an impending drill. Now it makes sense," the Time Lord said, nodding.

"Where is the rest of your invasion force?" Restac asked irritably.

"Invasion force. Me and lovely Nasreen? No. We came for the humans you took. And to offer the safe return of Alaya. Oh wait, you and she, what is it, same genetic source? Of course you're worried, but don't be, she's safe."

"You claim to come in peace, but you hold one of us hostage."

"Wait, wait, we all want the same thing here," the Doctor tried furiously. Restac ignored him.

"I don't negotiate with apes. I am going to send a clear message to those on the surface."

"What's that?" he asked curiously.

"Your execution."

OoOoO

"These chambers are everywhere." Mo indicated one with his hand as they passed by. "What are they?"

"No idea." The Dreamer smiled wolfishly. "Let's find out."

She pulled out her sonic and buzzed it at one of the chambers, turning the light on. A Silurian was inside, but it didn't react to the sudden stimuli.

"Ugh, no. Turn it off quick. They aren't moving."

The Dreamer ignored him, choosing instead to step inside the chamber and look around. "Cryo-chambers," she exclaimed suddenly. "And look!" She grinned brightly as her eyes caught the transport system. "It's a sort of—suspended animation, like in the films. Climb in, set an alarm for, oh, a thousand years, and it puts your body in stasis for that length of time." She took another look around. "These must be the warrior caste. See, they've got weapons with them, and these chambers double as transport pods."

"Did you say weapons?" Mo latched on to that piece of information. "Come on, let's grab a couple! We can get my son back!"

"No, no weapons," the Dreamer said firmly. She stepped out of the chamber and sonicked it off. "That's not the way we do things. We'll get your son back, Mo, I promise. Now let's go; we need to find the Doctor."

OoOoO

"These must be the only ones awake," the Doctor told Nasreen as they were escorted through the gardens. "The rest must still be in hibernation."

"So, why did they go into hibernation in the first place?" the curious human wanted to know. She was rather good at this; companion material, the Doctor thought.

"Their astronomers predicted the planet heading to Earth on a crash course. They a built life underground and put themselves to sleep for millennia in order to avert what they thought was the apocalypse, when in reality it was the moon coming into alignment with the Earth."

"How do you know this?" Malohkeh demanded, interrupting his lecture.

The Time Lord tried to not be too put out. "Long time ago, I met another tribe of _homo reptilian_. Similar, but not identical," he replied honestly.

"Others of our species survived?" Restac exclaimed.

The Doctor sighed, not wanting to have to tell the truth now. Not in this situation, but… "They died. The humans attacked them. I'm sorry."

"A vermin race," Restac said decisively. The Doctor felt sick inside and prayed that he hadn't just condemned Arkytior, Elliot, and Mo to death.

OoOoO

"You should've told me," Rory fussed. "I'm a nurse."

Tony Mack had been stung on his shoulder, and he was very ill. The wound was green, the veins pulsing, and Tony's forehead shone with a feverish sweat. An angry scream erupting from the crypt interrupted Rory's inspection, and he gritted his teeth, sighed, and followed Amy.

"Ambrose, what are you doing?" Amy shouted.

"I just want my family back," the woman defended. There was a gun in her hands, cocked and aimed at Alaya's heart. "And Dad is sick. She won't tell me the cure. I've tried."

"Listen," Rory tried. "We can work together without violence. No one's dying today. Give me the gun."

"She kept taunting me about Mo and Elliot and you," Ambrose said, gaze fixated on her father.

"We have to be better than this," Tony said with a sad sigh.

Amy launched forward suddenly, grabbing at the gun, trying to wrest it away from Ambrose. The other woman fought back instinctively, trying to pull the gun against her body.

"Amy, no!" Rory shouted desperately.

His fiancé turned to grin triumphantly as she angled the gun back towards the Silurian, about to tear it free.

The gun went off.

"Soon, it will be war," a faint voice hissed.

Amy and Ambrose turned to stare in horror at Alaya, who was smiling peacefully. With a bullet hole in her chest. The Silurian was dead, along with their chance to rescue their friends peacefully.

"What happened to the best of humanity?" Tony asked mournfully, and the silence surrounding them had never felt more like guilt.


	27. Cold Blood-Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for late post. Thank mltrefry for bugging me enough that I actually finished this and my beta, batistaangel15, for turning this into something you want to read.
> 
> Only 6/7 chapters left!

Cold Blood—Part Two

"You're not authorized to do this," a Silurian exclaimed inside the courtroom. At least, the Dreamer felt fairly confident it was a courtroom. And, of course, the Doctor was in the middle of it. Trouble always found him, no matter what. It wasn't surprising to her in the least.

The Dreamer watched carefully from around the corner as two Silurians—a male scientist, the one who'd been running the scans, and a female warrior—argued over the Doctor and the human with him—Nasreen, she remembered her name was. Finally seeing him after what seemed like so many hours—and, according to her timesense, was only one—was a relief. When the two hostages were shackled to a large column in one end of the long room, the Dreamer felt it was time to intervene.

"What have you gotten yourself into now, Theta?" she asked with a laugh as she walked into the room. Twirling her sonic between her fingers, she switched it to the right setting and aimed it at the handcuffs. "Leave you alone for an hour and you get yourself sentenced to execution."

"Arkytior!" the Doctor exclaimed, pulling away from the column to embrace her tightly. _I was so afraid,_ he sent to her, lightly resting his fingers on her wrist to initiate the bond. _I'm so sorry I didn't hold onto you—_

 _Hush,_ the Dreamer answered. _I knew you'd find a way down to me. We always come for each other._ She then switched to speak aloud. "Getting yourself executed is not the best way to go about rescuing hostages, you know."

"Yeah, my mistake. Small slip up."

Mo came cautiously around the corner at that moment. "Is it safe?" he asked. "Can we get my son now?"

"Be silent!" Restac ordered suddenly. A large, holographic screen flickered to life in mid-air, showing Rory and Amy. "Who speaks for the apes?" she demanded loudly.

 _"We speak for the humans. Well, some of them anyway,"_ Rory answered nervously.

"Do you understand who we are?"

 _"Sort of. A bit. Not really,"_ Rory admitted.

 _"You're lizards who think they should be allowed to take over the planet based on stupid assumptions about the human race,"_ Amy added.

"We have ape hostages," Restac announced grandly. Evidently, the courtroom was only now made visible on the screen, because the two humans' faces lit up.

 _"Doctor! Dreamer!"_ Amy exclaimed happily.

 _"Mo! Mo, are you okay?"_ Ambrose asked, her face appearing.

"I'm fine, love. I've found Elliot. I'm bringing him home," Mo answered, grinning at the sight of his wife.

"Show me Alaya," Restac interrupted. "Show me her unharmed and release her immediately or we kill your friends one by one."

 _"No,"_ Ambrose said.

 _"Ambrose,"_ Rory started.

 _"Ambrose, stop it,"_ Tony tried.

 _"Get off me, dad,"_ the woman said. _"We didn't start this."_

"Let Rory and Amy deal with this, Ambrose, eh?" the Doctor said soothingly.

 _"We are not doing what you say anymore. Now give me back my family,"_ Ambrose said firmly.

"No. Execute the girl," Restac said.

 _"Wait, she's not speaking for us!"_ Rory attempted.

"There's no need for this!" the Doctor protested.

His panic leaked through the bond where his hand was still joined with the Dreamer's. The gun was making his insides steel up and his skin crawl. He tried to calm his hammering hearts and kept his grip on her hand. She hasn't even been in this incarnation for that long, and he would be damned if she were to die in front of him. Regeneration was always painful, and while he knew she could handle it, that wasn't something he wanted her to go through. Especially right now and by the barrel of a gun. He'd rather take the bullets himself.

"Whatever you want, we will do it, promise," Amy added, trying to keel calm. Her words fell on deaf ears.

"Aim."

The Dreamer closed her eyes, taking a shaky breath. _If there's a record for shortest time between regenerations, I'm about to break it,_ she thought, and felt the Doctor's flash of amusement at her morbid joke.

"Don't do this!" the Doctor pleaded.

The holographic screen disappeared, the contact severed.

"Fire!"

The Dreamer felt the Doctor's hand tighten hard around hers, almost as if he were about to swiftly pull her behind him and be her shield. She waited for the blast from the gun that would force her to regenerate. Instead, she heard a voice.

"Stop! You want to start a war while the rest of us sleep, Restac?"

Opening her eyes, the Dreamer looked at the source of the voice to find it was a new Silurian, one she had never seen. She breathed a sign of relief and felt the tension lift slightly from the Doctor, his grip loosening. He tugged her into a half-hug, resting his chin on her head, as the Silurians argued.

"The apes are attacking us," Restac responded.

"You're our protector, not our commander, Restac. Unchain them."

"I do not recognize your authority at this time, Eldane."

"Well then, you must shoot me," Eldane responded. The scientist, Malohkeh, re-entered the room and Restac glared at him.

"You woke him just to undermine me," she snapped.

"We're not monsters, and neither are they," Malohkeh said mildly.

"What is it about _apes_ you love so much, hmm?"

"While you slept, they've evolved. I've seen it."

"We used to hunt apes for sport. When we came underground, they bred and polluted this planet."

"Shush now, Restac," Eldane responded. "Go and play soldiers. I'll let you know if I need you."

"You'll need me, then we'll see," Restac said darkly, before turning and disappearing into the bowels of the city.

"Can we bring our friends down?" the Dreamer asked Eldane. "Have them bring Alaya and exchange her for us?"

"I think that would be in order," Eldane agreed.

The Doctor hurried over to the transmitter and fiddled with it for a moment before speaking into it. "Rory. Hello. No time to chat. Listen, you need to get down here. Go to the drill storeroom. There's a large patch of earth in the middle of the floor. The Silurians are going to send up transport discs to bring you back down using geothermal energy and gravity bubble technology. It's how they travel and frankly, it's pretty cool. Bring Alaya. We hand her over, we can land this after all. All going to work, promise. Got to dash. Hurry up." He returned to Eldane. "I'd say you've got a fair bit to talk about."

"How so?" he asked, seemingly genuinely surprised.

"You both want the planet. You've both got a genuine claim to it."

"Are you authorized to negotiate on behalf of humanity?"

"Me? No. But she is," the Doctor said, indicating Nasreen.

"What? Me?"

"Nobody better," the Time Lord said with a huge grin.

"Time's in flux," the Dreamer piped in. "What happens here can change the entire future of the human race."

"What are you talking about?" Nasreen asked, confused.

"Oh, I should probably tell you. We travel in time, the four of us," the Doctor informed the bewildered human.

"Right," Nasreen said slowly. "Nobody's gonna go for this. We can't share the planet. It's just too big a leap."

"Oh, come on," the Doctor said. "Be extraordinary."

The woman took a deep breath. "Okay."

"Okay. Bringing things to order. The first meeting of representatives of the human race and homo reptilia is now in session. Ha! Never said that before. That's fab. Carry on. Now, Mo. Let's go and get your son. Oh, you know, humans, and their predecessors shooting the breeze. Never thought I'd see it."

The Doctor grinned, lacing his fingers through the Dreamer's, and the Time Lords left the room.

OoOoO

The console room was bathed in a somber silence. The Dreamer helped the Doctor put the TARDIS in the Vortex, the atmosphere enhanced by the Doctor's stillness. There was no cheery banter, no childish antics, as he moved about the console with a quick efficiency. The Dreamer brushed against his hand lightly, and a stray thought filtered through the bond.

_Humans. Every time. They have a chance to do something amazing and they ruin it._

_It was an accident, Theta_ , the Dreamer sent in response. The Doctor looked at her for a moment, and she could both see and feel the sorrow in his eyes.

"We're sorry." Rory's voice cut loudly through the tense atmosphere. He winced at the volume, continuing in a quieter vein: "Amy didn't know the gun was cocked. We tried to keep her alive."

"You tried," the Doctor said flatly. "People died, you nearly started a war that would've killed the entire planet, but at least you _tried_!"

"Theta," the Dreamer said softly, placing a hand on his arm. She glanced over at their companions. Amy was seated on the steps, silently crying, and Rory's face was white, his eyes alternating between fear and desperation. "Look. It's not their fault, and it isn't yours either. Humanity just wasn't ready."

Amy had been crying when the humans had been brought underground. Rory was quietly sorrowful but determined, holding onto one edge of a tarpaulin-wrapped body. Tony had held the other side, and Ambrose had been off to one side, defiantly angry.

"It was an accident," Amy had started in a shaking voice. "We didn't know the gun was cocked and we tried to take it away from her, but it went off."

Then Ambrose had intervened, loudly declaring her lack of regret and demanding her family back. She explained that she'd set the drill to start again, and the effect was immediate. The Silurians started firing their guns, but Eldane and Malohkeh had been willing to help, and the Dreamer had used a setting on her sonic to temporarily disable the weapons, allowing them to escape to the labs.

Once in the labs, it was revealed that Tony was sick, mutating into a Silurian. With only twelve minutes before the drill started again, the Doctor and the Dreamer had to set up an energy pulse that would blow up the drill, while Eldane started a program that would flood the tunnels with poison gas, killing the rebels that refused to stand down.

With barely any time to get back to the TARDIS before the energy pulse collapsed the tunnels and Restac's army either back in hibernation or dead, Nasreen and Tony decided to stay and hibernate with the Silurians until Tony could be decontaminated. The remaining people ran, barely making it back to the ship. Restac, barely alive, caught up to them at the doors of the TARDIS, aiming her weapon at the Doctor. The Dreamer pulled out her sonic, luckily still set on the setting that disabled the guns, and managed to break the gun before Restac could fire.

With five seconds on the countdown, the TARDIS dematerialized. The Time Lords had dropped Ambrose, Mo, and Elliot off at the surface, and entered the Vortex. The Dreamer studied the Doctor, noting how tense he still was.

"When was the last time we took a break to let them sleep?" she asked.

"We slept on Barcelona," Amy said quietly. "But I wouldn't mind taking a break for a couple hours."

"Right, then," the Doctor said finally. "Human sleep time, then we'll go to Paris. A bit of holiday'll do us good."


	28. Paris

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Been a long time. Don't know if anyone's still out there reading this, but here: a little interlude between Cold Blood and The Lodger. Where have I been, you ask? Over at nanowrimo.org, writing a novel. During the month of November, I wrote 85,058 words on two separate novels, one of which I completed and am now rewriting and revising in the hopes of publishing this year. Maybe later, don't know how long it'll take. Anyway, enough of that; the chapter is short, but I hope you all like it and will take this fluff as an apology for my prolonged absence.

“We need to talk.”

The Doctor looked up from the scanner, which he’d been hunched over for thirty-three minutes and twenty-eight point one seconds—not that he was keeping track or anything. No, he was… busy. Doing busy, important, Time Lord-y things.

Alright, that’s a hard excuse to successfully use on a Time Lady easily as brilliant as he was, he admitted. Still…

“About?” He was good at hiding, always had been. After all, a big part of hiding is being in plain sight. Dissembling. Dissembling Doctor. Devious dissembling Doctor—wait, had Arkytior answered him? She was looking at him rather expectantly. “Ah…”

A hint of a smile graced her lips, and now _that_ was a whole other kind of distraction. But not right now. He really should be listening right now.

“The bond, Theta. It can’t remain in this… incomplete state forever, it’ll drive us both mad. You know that as well as I do.”  Arkytior tried to catch his eyes—but that was another thing he was good at evading. Eye contact. Never _quite_ meet anyone’s eyes, you know, that’s the first rule of hiding something. Because really, he didn’t want to dissolve the bond. Not at all. And it’d hurt him to do so, might even hurt his Arkytior too, and that was not an option. Nope, nada, nein. Never gonna happen.

“Paris!” he said eagerly, flipping the dematerialization lever and setting the hand brake.

“Not this time, Theta,” Arkytior said quietly. “Amy and Rory are asleep and we’ve been running long enough.”

The Doctor sighed, the buoyancy draining from his limbs. “Shall we go for a walk, then? We’ll be back long before either of them wakes up,” he added, nodding his head at the entrance to the corridor.

Arkytior nodded, extending her hand towards him. “As long as we talk.”

He nodded, taking her outstretched hand and leading her to the doors. “We’ll talk. You’re right—it’s high time I stopped running, from you and from us.”

They stepped outside, onto a quiet backstreet late at night. There were very few others walking around, and it was a clear, moonless night. Strolling through the streets of Paris under the light of the stars, the Doctor took a deep breath and made the plunge.

“Do you want to dissolve the bond?”

“Do you?” Arkytior returned—it was so hard of him to think of her as the Dreamer, not when she’d always been just ‘Arkytior’ to him, not that she’d ever been ‘just’ anything. Her voice was calm, but he caught a note in it that made him think maybe she was worried of his answer. He could feel her bright gold presence close to him, but he made no move to reach for her mind with his own.

“What I want doesn’t matter,” he answered finally.

“Theta, a relationship is a two-way street.” She was exasperated with him now. “Full of compromises and meeting in the middle. No, I don’t want to dissolve the bond. In fact, I would make it permanent in a heartsbeat. But I don’t know how you feel, and I’ve tried to hold myself back, to let you figure yourself out, but it’s past time you made a decision. Do you want this, Theta Sigma?”

The Doctor stopped, staring at her. That had most decidedly _not_ been what he’d been expecting to hear. “You want this?” he asked, skewering her with his eyes.

In response, Arkytior opened the bond between them as wide as it could go, flooding him with emotions and thoughts.

_Love, strong enough to take his breath away. It’d started as friendship, as many relationships do, Arkytior and Theta Sigma and Koschei having a marvelous time stirring up trouble among the stuffy elder Time Lords. It was the three of them against the universe, and the universe had met its match. Friendship blossoming into love as their years at the Academy begun, a love which only grew stronger as they aged. The devastation caused by Rassilon’s ultimatum. Centuries alone. The Time War—she’d been the Lady General before him, a fact he hadn’t known. Yes, they’d served on the War Council together, although rarely coming into contact with each other. She’d been Romana’s only other liaison with the High Council, he now saw. Warrior and politician both, and still always dreaming of something greater, something more. Then the final days of the War, as her mind was locked away and her biology rewritten, becoming a human but yet so much more. Meeting him. Falling in love, taking the universe by storm, the Doctor and Rose Tyler in the TARDIS as it should be, and yet something always missing. That final piece of the puzzle._

“I want this, Doctor,” Arkytior breathed, and he lost his control.

Leaning forward, ever so gently, he kissed her, and there in the streets of Paris, billions of light years from their home, the last two Time Lords in the universe were bound together, with an unbreakable bond between minds, hearts, and souls.

~o*o~

“We should go back to the TARDIS,” Arkytior said some time later.

They sat in a small café, the sun just rising, eating croissants and drinking coffee. “We did promise them a vacation,” the Doctor agreed after a moment.

“Who knows what trouble they’ll get into if they venture out by themselves?”

“That’s their fault. I am _not responsible_ for the dangerous situations companions get themselves into by wandering off,” he decided, pinning Arkytior in place with a look.

Her amusement leaked through over the bond, and he sighed. “Alright, fine. Do we have to tell them, though? Amy’ll laugh.”

“Probably.” Arkytior grinned. “I guess we don’t _have_ to tell them, although I think it’s generally considered polite.”

“You know me. Rude—“

“And not ginger, yes,” she finished. “Eventually, there will come a time when we need to explain the bond to them, you know.”

“Yes, I know, but not now.” The Doctor rose, offering Arkytior his hand. She took it eagerly.

“Do you feel the timelines shifting?” she asked him softly. “There’s something coming, something big and I don’t know what it is.”

“Not a storm,” he growled softly, his fierce protectiveness flaring in her mind. “The only storm coming anywhere, now, is me. No more storms between you and I.”

Maybe, if he was determined enough, careful enough, strong enough, then they’d leave him be. The storms would go away and give him some peace with Arkytior, with his love—his bond mate.

_You can’t outrun the storms forever, love._

_I can try._

Silence. Then:

_We’ll have to do the handfasting eventually—it’s Gallifreyan tradition, and I don’t want those traditions to completely disappear. Just because it’s gone doesn’t mean it’s lost forever._

The Doctor sighed, but acquiesced. Partly because he couldn’t deny her anything, partly because he secretly agreed. Not that he’d ever tell anyone… too late, he realized at the amusement he could feel.

“This is going to take some getting used to,” he mumbled. _No more devious dissembling Doctor, that’s for sure._

“Devious dissembling Doctor?” Arkytior asked, somewhere between incredulousness and laughter. “Is _that_ what was distracting you earlier?”

“Maybe,” he said sulkily. “Come on, TARDIS is this way,” and he picked a random direction and started walking.

“Actually, no, She’s over here,” Arkytior informed him, and with a laugh from her and a grumble from him, the couple made their way back to the time ship, lighter and more carefree than they’d been in years.


	29. The Lodger--Part One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a vastly different version of The Lodger than what you're expecting, so hold tight because it's going to be a ride. Thanks to thisisthevoiceoflightcity for beta-reading for me and helping me with plot! I'm not posting to a schedule, but the next chapter will be out fairly quickly because I already know what I'm writing.

The Lodger--Part One

“The fifth moon of Cindie Colesta!” the Doctor proclaimed, grandly flapping his arms in the direction of the doors--causing Amy to laugh, Rory to look vaguely terrified (as usual), and the Dreamer to roll her eyes in fond exasperation.

“That’d be a lot more… impressive… if you’d landed us in the right place,” the Time Lady said, sharing an amused look with Amy. “Considering that the TARDIS is laughing at you right now, I think you may have missed the mark.”

“Laughing at me? She’s not--”

A shower of sparks erupted from the console directly beneath the Doctor’s hand, and he cut himself off with a yelp. A sulky look on his face, he straightened his bow tie and moved to the TARDIS doors, throwing them open and stepping outside.

“Such dramatics,” the Dreamer muttered under her breath before following the Doctor outside… into a very Earthlike suburban park.

“Oo-kay, definitely not the fifth moon of Cindie Colesta.” The statement was loud enough for Amy and Rory to hear, still within the console room, and the ginger girl laughed, opening her mouth to make some sarcastic comment.

Before she could speak, however, the TARDIS doors slammed closed with a crash and the ship dematerialized.

A sickening feeling tore through the Dreamer’s mind, and she instinctively clamped down on the bond as the TARDIS was wrenched away from her mind, leaving a gaping hole where there had been shining gold light moments before. Her knees buckled, a soft huff of air escaping her lips as she hit the ground. The Doctor was there next to her instantly, wrapping his arms around her, throwing his mind against her block in the bond, but she didn’t notice. Disoriented, confused, she gasped for air and tried to think through the sudden fog that was descending upon her.

“Theta--I can’t--the TARDIS--”

“Arkytior?” The Doctor moved in front of her, meeting her eyes. “What’s wrong, what’s happening--let me in, love, please?”

“Can’t,” she breathed, focusing on his face. “Theta--Bad Wolf--shutting down my mind. Can’t sustain without the TARDIS--I looked into the TARDIS and the TARDIS looked into me--remember--”

The Dreamer’s eyes fell closed and she crumpled into his arms, golden light flickering under her skin. 

And then, Arkytior woke up.

_ There is a girl, young, dancing in a field of red grass beneath twin suns in a burnt-orange sky. She is called Arkytior, and she is beautiful. She has two friends, Theta Sigma and Koschei, and one day they will steal a TARDIS and run away. _

_ There is a woman, tall and regal in robes of crimson. Brilliant--and alone. She has a timeship of her own, now, although she rarely leaves Gallifrey. She has no interest in the primitives of the universe, or so she tells herself. Instead, she stands behind the shields of Arcadia, Gallifrey’s second city, and watches the stars wheel by--endless, unchanging, beautiful. _

Arkytior opened her eyes, frowning. At that moment, several things became known to her.

  1. Wherever she was, it was not Gallifrey.
  2. There was a man (Time Lord, whispered her subconscious) with his arms around her.
  3. She did not know the Time Lord.
  4. Her TARDIS was gone.
  5. Gallifrey--the Time Lords--



She shoved away from the Time Lord holding her and leapt to her feet, staring around wildly. “Who are you, where am I, and  _ what have you done with Gallifrey _ ?” she hissed out, her voice ice.

The Time Lord winced at the mention of Gallifrey, but beyond that all she saw in his eyes was confusion. “Arkytior?” he asked softly, warily, as one would speak to a wild animal. “It’s--me, it’s the Doctor.”

The title was meaningless to her. “Who is the Doctor?” Not that she cared, much, but he was the only thing around who could answer her questions. 

(Her mind is screaming and empty so empty and it’s all she can do not to black out)

(She’s too well-trained to show it)

The Time Lord calling himself the Doctor paled, staggering back a step, eyes going wide. “What--how--Theta Sigma, from the Academy, don’t you remember me?”

Arkytior frowned again, looked at ‘Theta Sigma’, at his timeline. “Do you think me a fool? You’re no more Theta Sigma than I am Rassilon. Your timeline is completely wrong, for one. Paradoxes, time loops, fixed points--anti time?” She stepped back in horror. “Don’t come anywhere near me! Rassilon, one would almost think you’ve spent significant time engaged in temporal warfare!”

“I don’t--I’m not--Arkytior, please,” he forced out.

“I have a title, you can feel free to call me by it,” she snapped, looking around again. “Where am I? Why don’t I remember coming here, and where is my TARDIS?” A sign in a language of angles and lines and harsh geometry--she blinked, and it made sense. English, she knows English. “English--what is this, a primitive planet?”

“Humans aren’t  _ primitives _ ,” he chastised her, almost sharply. A frown, a look of such utter confusion Arkytior almost begins to wonder if there’s something wrong with her--then he speaks again. “How can you not recognize Earth?”

“I don’t make a habit of visiting primitive, mindblind species. They’re…” (silly pathetic foolish boring why does it hurt????) 

“Ar--Dreamer?”

“When your species is a hivemind,” Arkytior begins after a moment, “you tend to notice when all but one other mind has disappeared from it. I’ve let you play your games with me, but enough is enough.  _ Where is Gallifrey? _ ”

The Time Lord--the Doctor--stares at her, and understanding crosses his face. “Oh,” he breathes, “ohhh. Lady Dreamer, my apologies. You must be--very confused. I promise you, I can explain--”

(liar it’s gone it hurts what have you done with it my tardis gallifrey WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH IT)

“No.”

“Excuse me?”

“It doesn’t take a genius,” she hisses, hard and cold and ice cracking through the air, a whip, “to understand. Who else but a Time Lord has the power to destroy the Time Lords? All I want to know is why, why did you let me live? Did you need someone to witness it? So you could wring every drop of pain from the monumental act of wanton destruction which you’ve committed? Did you want to gloat to someone who’d understand, because the primitives aren’t enough?”

“I-I don’t--” He stares, blue-green eyes wide, shocked, (vulnerable?) mouth open a little. “I didn’t--Arkytior--”

“ _ Do not call me Arkytior! _ ” She whirls, snarls, wild and feral, gold lightning crackling across her skin. 

The Doctor freezes, backs away. “Just--calm down,” he says slowly, carefully.

(a wolf howls in the distance)

“Why.”

“You’re scared, I understand that,” he says. “But you’re being emotional. You need to calm down before--”

“You don’t have the  _ right _ to tell me what I need to do,” Arkytior says, perfectly still. (inside she’s screaming)

The Doctor just watches, frozen in place by the horribly familiar golden light flickering in her green eyes.

“I don’t need to listen to--”

The gold dies suddenly, a wave of disorientation and nausea and exhaustion passing over her, and she stumbles and nearly falls. The Doctor moves closer almost instinctively, but she pulls herself to her feet and backs away.

“Just  _ trust _ me!” he exclaims suddenly, desperately. “We were friends in the Academy, how can you not trust me?”

“I do not trust the  _ thing _ that would kill its own kind.”

She’s gone too far.

(she’s still screaming)

Something shifts, shutters, changes--suddenly he’s dangerous. He hadn’t seemed dangerous before, not really, not like this. This is a darkness deeper than anything she’s ever seen.

“Don’t. You.  _ Dare _ ,” he whispers, every word carrying the weight of a despair and anger almost incomprehensible to her. “Don’t you even dare. You weren’t  _ there _ . I don’t  _ care _ if your mind is--shutting down, I don’t  _ care _ , you may not remember the War but that doesn’t give you the right.” His voice has risen in pitch, powerful and dark and heavy. “You weren’t there in the last days of the War. When the Nightmare Child swallowed, not just galaxies, but  _ realities _ \--entire universes wiped out in a blink. When Time Lords Loomed only days before died screaming, burning in golden artron energy, all their regenerations exploding out of them in the sometimes--if they’re unlucky--minutes it takes to die. You weren’t there when the Moment came.”

He draws a breath, hard and fast and ragged. “You may know me--but don’t you  _ ever _ presume to know how it  _ felt _ .”

There is silence. Thick, a blanket pressing down on them both--stifling and suffocating and physically  _ there _ .

Then she speaks, and it blows away like dust in the wind. “What-what’s happening? Why don’t I remember?” She raises a hand, touches her temple, stares at him with wide and terrified eyes.

“Trust me. My TARDIS is--caught, something’s keeping Her from landing. Help me find the problem and stop it, and I’ll explain everything.”

A long pause, a hesitation. Arkytior swallows, takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly. “Alright, then. I will help.”

“You have to speak English.” He’s still quiet, withdrawn.

(in pain and it’s her fault)

(but that shouldn’t matter)

(why does it matter?)

“A primitive language.” She sighs, tries to figure out what’s wrong with the planet beneath her. It’s spinning far too quickly, unsteadily, wobbling through Space--or maybe it’s her who’s unsteady, she can’t quite tell, but she’s sure of the fact that  _ something _ is wrong. Something’s off.

“Just because a language doesn’t have two hundred verb tenses…” The Doctor’s voice trails off, and Aryktior watches him for a moment, then raises an eyebrow. “English isn’t primitive, Ar-Dreamer, just… not built to handle time travel. There  _ is _ a difference.”

She considers this for a moment, then shrugs fluidly. “As I said, primitive. Must you have landed your TARDIS around so many…  _ plants _ ? Are you a Cerulean or something? It’s rather… unsettling.”

(for some reason it doesn’t bother her as much as it should)

(but the look on his face sends something warm and tingling rushing through her)

The Doctor--maybe he really  _ is _ Theta Sigma, she decides suddenly--just rolls his eyes and grumbles under his breath. When he speaks loud enough for her to hear, it’s in English. “Right then, time to get started.”

“Doing what, exactly?” She’s fairly certain she’s never spoken English before, but somehow the strange angled language comes easily, naturally, to her.

“It’s a two-part plan. Well, it’s the start of a plan. I don’t really like plans. They never work.” The Doctor vaguely flaps his arms around, swallowing and hurriedly returning to the point at the look on Arkytior’s face. “Part one: find the thing keeping the TARDIS from materializing. Part two: stop the thing. It’s all very simple.”

“How, exactly, do you intend to go about this… plan?”

He pauses, opens his mouth, shuts it again with a sheepish shrug. “I… haven’t quite figured that part out yet. It’s a work in progress. Most of my plans are.”

Arkytior frowns, shaking her head, and gestures around her. “Right then, lead the way. How do you plan to find the… thing? Scan for advanced technology?”

“No,” he answers, walking off in a random direction. “Can’t use the sonic because it’ll ruin the surprise. I have a plan.”

“Sonic?”

His stride hitches oh-so-slightly, and there’s a second of quiet before he responds. “Sonic screwdriver.”

“A sonic…  _ screwdriver _ ?” Incredulous, Arktyior stares at the Doctor’s back. “Why would you want a sonic screwdriver? Do your methods of confrontation  _ typically _ involve assembling a cabinet at hostile alien life-forms?”

“Oi, don’t diss the sonic,” he says. “Oh look! I’ve just come up with a piece of the plan. Follow me!”

~o*o~

The Doctor sighs as he walks through the town--wherever he is, he’ll figure it out eventually, he always does--and does his absolute best to think on  _ anything _ other than the Time Lady walking behind him. Of course, as expected he’s failing miserably. Really, he should be searching the timelines, seeking out whatever temporal device is here--it’ll leave a ripple, or maybe a knot, something he can track it by. 

Instead, his mind is consumed by what’s happened to Arkytior.

What little she’d managed to tell him before falling unconscious makes him fairly certain her mind has reconfigured itself. Hiding all but the most essential memories and locking down the telepathic center. For some reason he’s determined to find out, the TARDIS’s… situation is affecting Arkytior too. Bad Wolf--somehow it’s shutting down her mind. 

Up ahead a fluttering piece of white paper, taped to a store window, catches his attention. Looking more closely at it, he sees the Gallifreyan symbol traced on it and freezes. Arkytior notices.

“What?”

The Doctor doesn’t answer, instead surging forward to grab the paper. Opening it, he scans the swirling Circular Gallifreyan, committing the contents of the note to memory, and tucks it away in his jacket pocket.

“Doctor, what is that?” Arkytior is quite close behind him now--he hadn’t noticed her approach.

“A note from myself,” he answers nonchalantly, cutting quickly across the street and stopping in front of the cash point he’d noticed. “My future self, specifically. With some helpful information. On we go, my dear Dreamer,” he adds with a grin, digging a bag from his pocket and dumping a wad of cash into it. “We’re off to find a man by the name of Craig Owens. He’s just posted an advert for a room.”

“You--” Arkytior stares at him, rather horrified. “You plan to stay with a  _ primitive _ ?”

“Oh, for the last time,” he sighs, exasperated. “They’re humans, not primitives. And until the TARDIS is back, so are we.”

“You’re mad,” she says flatly. “Rassilon help me, I’ve been kidnapped by a madman. Why couldn’t the last living Time Lord be one of the ones with some  _ sense _ ?”

“I resent that remark,” he grumbles. “Actually, I’m completely sane. Well, that bit’s debatable. But the  _ point _ is, we’re trying to blend in. And the humans don’t appreciate being called primitive. Rassilon, I never expected to meet someone worse at blending in than I am.”

“Fine, fine.” Arkytior let out a dignified, long-suffering sigh. “I will… attempt--attempt, you understand--to resemble a primi-human. If I must.”

~o*o~

The door to the small, rather unexceptional building opens, and a primitive-- _ human _ , Arkytior corrects herself--a human steps out, clutching what appears to be a fuzzy pink key ring?

“I love you,” he blurts out, then freezes in place with his mouth still partly open.

“Well, that’s good, because we’re your new lodgers,” the Doctor says cheerily. “You know, this is going to be easier than I thought.”

The rest of the exchange is lost to a wave of disorientation, and Arkytior struggles to keep herself upright and straight-faced, not wanting anyone to know what she’s feeling. Something… strange, hidden, long buried deep within her mind was tingling--as though… no, she shakes her head and pushes the thought away. It doesn’t matter.

“Arkytior? Are you coming in?”

She blinks, realizes the Doctor and--this must be  _ Craig _ \--are standing just inside the door, waiting for her. There’s a look of--is that concern?--on the Time Lord’s face. She does her best to ignore it, and walks through the door as though nothing had happened.

(her head hurts and she can hardly stand and everything is  _ wrong _ )

The lights in the hallway are flickering, and her gaze is drawn up the stairs to the flat door on the upper landing. Something about it is eerily familiar, a bone-deep  _ knowing _ that’s confusing and strange and, if she lets herself think about it for too long, terrifying.

She shivers and follows the Doctor and Craig inside the flat. Paying only a little attention to the discussion happening during the tour, she observes the patch of what looks like simple rot on the ceiling. To a primitive human, she supposes the black patch might not ever be suspicious--until they touched it, of course. With her sensitive Time Lord senses, however, she can  _ feel _ the difference. 

“Doctor,” she murmurs, indicating the ‘rot’.

“Ahh. I suppose that’s dry rot?” he asks Craig.

“Or damp. Or mildew,” the human agrees with a nod.

“Or none of the above,” the Doctor mutters after a moment of observation.

“I’ll get someone in to fix it,” Craig tries.

“No, I'll fix it. I'm good at fixing rot. Call me the Rotmeister. No, I'm the Doctor, don't call me the Rotmeister. This is the most beautiful parlour I have ever seen. You're obviously a man of impeccable taste. We can stay, Craig, can't we? Say we can.” 

“You haven’t even seen the room!”

“The room?”

Arkytior doesn’t know a lot about humans, but she’s fairly certain that the Doctor is doing a terrible job of blending in, and for some reason that’s vastly amusing.

“Your room.” Craig looks between the two of them, obviously confused and more than a little unsure.

“My room? Oh, yes. My room.  _ Our _ room. Take us to our room.”

The Doctor seems quite pleased with himself.

(take me to your leader! I’ve always wanted to say that)

The room is nice, if a bit small, and Arkytior hopes that the Doctor doesn’t need to sleep this evening because there isn’t very much room on the bed and she is  _ not _ sharing a bed with a stranger.

(he’s not a stranger)

Then the Doctor is rambling about omelets in the eighteenth century and they’re eating--the omelet is delicious, there’s no denying it, but she’s confused and disoriented again--and she stays quiet because there’s something so very  _ wrong _ and she doesn’t want to pretend to be a primitive-human-anyway. She’s fairly certain she’s never felt this exhausted before, and she’s too tired to care when the Doctor starts talking to some girl named Amy and a guy named Rory through a bluetooth earpiece. Instead, she curls up on the bed and closes her eyes.

The feeling is back--deep in her mind, something stirring, tugging at her, but she can’t pinpoint it--the fact that she can’t will drive her mad soon enough, because she hates failure. She’s not sure why--she’s not sure about much, not right now. So much is missing, she’s so confused, and she just wants it all to  _ go away _ .

**So Arkytior blocks out the conversation, closes her eyes, and sleeps. **


	30. The Lodger--Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The very AU ending to The Lodger. The only reason the chapter was posted so quickly is because I had a good idea of where I wanted it to go and I wrote it quickly; I'm trying to finish this work so I'm posting as soon as I finish, but don't expect every chapter to be posted the day after the previous. Next will be an interlude with the Doctor, Amy, and Rory; I will then be beginning the Pandorica arc, which will have some bigger changes as well. Following that will be an epilogue and then this story is finished, ladies and gentlemen.
> 
> Comments make me write faster!

The Lodger--Part Two

    _Golden light flickers behind her eyelids, dark with smoke and thick with screams. Pain, sharp and piercing, cutting through her. The screams fill her ears, louder and louder and suddenly become the howl of a Wolf, obliterating every thought and emotion and feeling there’s nothing just the Wolf, she’s helpless and hopeless and it’ll tear her apart in a blink--_

_And then gone._

_One thousand pasts, one hundred presents, and a million-billion futures attack her all at once, and she screams--but no sound leaves her lips, Time distorting around her, and in most of the presents she’s silent, but there’s one where the sound can be heard and in the scream there are words._

_He is coming._

_The Warrior. He stands tall, ancient and unrecognizable, galaxies in his eyes, timeline drifting behind him (not-time-lord-other) in loops and swirls and knots, full of paradoxes and impossibility and stained with anti-time--and Time is at his-its-their right hand and Death at his-its-their left. Where the Warrior-Other walks, blood falls like rain and the stars go dark, and looking at it-him is like looking through a pane of warped glass. When it-him smiles, you can hear the glass break._

_The glass breaks, shatters, diamond-dust like stars in the black and empty and endless universe, and another reality_

_g o e s_

_d ar k_

_Koschei-Master is the War King, and they were once best friends, but he’s mad, insane, feral, and she cannot-willnot-mustnot follow him. But Romana, Romana says to follow and she’s always trusted the former-Lady President. Or has she?_

_So_

_Many_

_Realities_

_And which one is the main one? She’s died so many times, now, but not. Because she’s good. Because if she gets too far in, they’ll pull her out, her and her TARDIS--and Rassilon is back, a god and a God and insane, and the War Looms churn out more Time Lords by the day but they all die, they die and the Looms can’t keep up, and in so many timelines Gallifrey’s already burnt--the Daleks and the Neverweres and the hundreds of time-active races the War has pulled in all overwhelming the twin suns and the burnt-orange sky and the red grasses and the trees with their silver leaves--and just surviving the madness is impossible now. How much can you warp Time before it snaps, rebounding at you?_

_No more. No more._

_The Wolf howls, uncontrollable, wild and feral and fierce, and_

_Everything_

_Melts_

_Gold._

~o*o~

She can hardly think. She does not know--what does She not know? She must leave, must find her way home, She can _seefeeltouch_ home but She cannot reach it. Her pilot is gone--She must find a pilot. None of the humans can pilot Her.

Something has changed! Or will change, or is changing… tenses are difficult.

Her pilot is here!

She _reaches_ , but Her pilot cannot _feelhear_ Her. Her pilot’s mind is wrong. So She waits, waits until Her pilot is sleeping, and then She tries again.

And Her pilot _remembers_.

_Comefindsavehomegopilotcomepleasehelpaliveneedwantcome!_

~o*o~

Arkytior’s eyes open, and all she can see is the War. Tinged in gold-glow-dust, a panoply of carnage and horror and death. It takes her time--uncounted seconds ticking past--to look past it, blink away the nightmare-no, the memories. Memories--yes, she was there. It happened.

Why is she only now remembering them? What else has she forgotten?

_Pilotcomehelphomewego!_

The Time Lady shoots to her feet, gasping, hands going to her temples--she _knows_ that mindvoice slipping into a hole that’s been empty so long she’s nearly forgotten it. No, not forgotten--never forget. But dulled, the pain fading into an everpresent ache that she hardly even notices.

_Homemustwecome? Pilothomehelpgetus?_

She’s left the bedroom behind, now. The Doctor sits in the living room, on the sofa, and with him is Craig and a woman she vaguely hears them call Sophie. Her mind is focused solely on the barely-there telepathic signal slowly gaining in strength, calling to her. The War and the Wolf and the memories she can access tumble around within her mind, and everything’s a confused jumbled mess and through it all she can feel Her, and she has to find Her.

Craig and Sophie stare. She’s certain she must look a sight, in her rumpled clothes and tousled hair and wild eyes, but she doesn’t care--eyes finding the Doctor’s. She speaks, but the only words she can manage are Gallifreyan, and she finds she doesn’t care what the primitives-humans think.

“Doctor, my TARDIS, I feel Her--have to find Her--help me!”

The humans are even more confused, now, she can tell--but she doesn’t care. She takes deep, panting breaths, stares at the Time Lord, and waits.

“Yours?”

She nods.

“You’re certain?”

“ _Yes,_ ” Arkytior hisses.

“Right then. That would certainly explain what’s been going on.” He clears his throat, and the next words he speaks are in English. “Craig, I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to show you something. I need your help. Oh, I’m going to regret this.”

Some sort of telepathic transfer occurs, Arkytior assumes, but she pays it no mind. Instead, she reaches out mentally, searching for the location of _her_ TARDIS, her beautiful, wonderful ship.

Upstairs?

“Hang on,” the Doctor says from behind her. “Amy says this is a one-story building.”

She turns and grins. “Chameleon circuit.”

“Whatever She’s doing, it’s burning up the humans. That’s the stain,” and he indicates the ‘rot’ on the ceiling.

“She? TARDIS?” Craig asks.

Arkytior whirls. “How do you know that?”

“Telepathy,” the Time Lord answers.

“Hang on, where’s Sophie?” Craig looks around, eyes wide--none of them saw the human woman leave the flat.

The scream suddenly echoing from upstairs gives them the answer.

The Doctor runs for the door, Arkytior close on his heels, Craig following behind them both. Something must’ve _happened_ last night, while she was sleeping, she’s missed something--if Sophie is Craig’s friend-girlfriend-partner she wouldn’t want to _leave_ , and Arkytior knows instinctively only humans who want to leave will be lured upstairs.

“You’ve got to save her, Doctor!” Craig shouts as they climb the stairs.

“He cannot,” Arkytior says in response, over her shoulder. “But I can.”

She’s not sure how much the telepathic transfer contained about her, but Craig doesn’t push it, and then the Doctor’s shouldering through the door--for a second, when he looks back at her, she sees the Warrior and flinches away, but then he’s gone--and she runs inside. The cavernous space is intimately familiar to her, simple yet beautiful, but there’s something _wrong_. The bright, airy room is dusky, dark, the burnt-orange ceiling hardly visible through the tangles of wires--red-and-silver floor thick with dust, choked with bits of metal and tubing and casing, and the sparkle of a fragment of coral catches her eye. The ship looks destroyed.

Sophie is near the console--tarnished silver metal and dark-wood panelling, the time rotor a sickly green-grey hue--and silver-bright streaks of electricity have the human by the hands, pull her ever-closer, and if Sophie touches the console she’ll burn, used up in a flash--Craig’s crying out, there’s words but the words are sharp and full of angles and stops and jagged edges, she cannot understand them.

“Stop! Let the primitive go,” Arkytior says, the sibilant silver-chime words tumbling from her mouth. And the TARDIS _listens_.

_Homepilotwegoyes? Seefeelheartouchtastehomewego?_

Sophie is released, staggers back across the room to Craig’s arms, and the two of them say something--she pays them no mind. Steps forward, towards the console. “Yes,” she breathes. “We go, now.”

The Doctor is there, before she can reach the console. “Arkytior, listen to me,” he says, stepping in front of her, forcing her to meet his eyes. “You can’t touch Her. She’s unstable, if She kicks on any systems…”

The lights flash a violent red, and the whisper-faint bond is filled with denial, desperation, and Arkytior wrenches herself away from Theta-Sigma-Warrior-Other, disoriented and confused and horrified. “Stop it, you can’t, She’s _mine_ and I--”

He grabs her wrists, holds them in a steel-strong grip, effectively cutting off her speech. “Inside every TARDIS is a bit of the Eye of Harmony, a black hole harnessed to our will. And right now, the black hole at the center of this ship is _very_ close to breaking free and pulling the _entire_ Solar System in. One touch is all it takes.”

The TARDIS does not _like_ this Time Lord.

ThetaSigma-Warrior-Other (who is he???) suddenly staggers back, hands at his temples, and rasps out, “Oh no you don’t.” His eyes find hers. “Emergency kill switch--you have to stop Her.”

“No no no stop it!”

She wants-needs-must reconnect with the TARDIS, her partner-savior-soul, wants to feel the bond between them at full strength again--it’s been so torn, so empty, echoing--she _wants_ . Mind so empty even echoes never come back, and the silence _hurts_ , and she doesn’t think just reaches out--

“ _Rose_ ,” the other Time Lord whispers. He’s fallen to his knees, fighting desperately--the TARDIS is attacking his mind, she knows, and even a Time Lord cannot withstand the full force of the eleven-dimensional mind for long. “Rose, _please_.”

(nicetomeetyourunforyourlife)

(thinkofhowyoulooktothemallpinkandyellow)

(youwerefantasticandsowasi)

(iamthebadwolf)

(youregoingtoburnanditsmyfault)

(newteeththatsweird)

(andisupposeifitsmylastchancetosayitrosetyler)

Arkytior freezes. Backs away.

(stopitwhatareyougetoutofmyhead)

“Stop it! Shut up!” She’s crying, why is she crying, what is _in her head_? “I can’t--I don’t--”

“Please,” he chokes out. “You don’t remember--but _please_ , it’s-She’s killing me.”

And everything

s   l   o      w       s

d

o

w

n

The faster you think the more time you have--where she learned that doesn’t matter. So think fast. No memories of how you got here, says TARDIS can’t land because something’s blocking it. There’s Gallifrey--but not eight hundred years of it, just snippets, bits and pieces like someone’s gone through her memories with scissors and needle and thread, cutting out what’s not important and stitching together the gaps. Her mind is a patchwork quilt of ragged edges and missing pieces--and the War. The War, and then--nothing. Empty hollow dusty dead Zagreus sits inside your head and to him you will be fed your memories and your dreaming.

There’s a crying ship and a closed door and silence, and the closed door is no longer closed. Open just a crack, and beyond it something dark blue and familiar and soothing, and it’s from here that the memories come. No--it’s more, it’s forever and eternity and--

Someone will die, must die, and it is either her heart-soul-ship or forever-always-mine and she must choose.

(choosewisely)

“Doctor, what’s going on? Doctor!”

Craig--not a primitive, not lesser, just _Craig_ \--and Sophie--they’ll die, or they’ll have a son and be happy, and she won’t just be killing them but the son-who-willbe too.

( _choose_ )

“Rose, I’m sorry,” the Doctor gasps out, not looking at her, looking at nothing, he’s losing. “Lucie--Ace-- _Susan_. No, please no.”

Arkytior chooses.

She knows the words.

“Emergency Programme Two, code ouroboros.”

Everything stills.

The TARDIS screams inside her head.

“Activate.”

“Total erasure of TARDIS unit in ten, nine, eight, seven…”

The Doctor is on his feet, and she’s turning and running, and the humans are too, and the voice is still counting down inside her head as they stumble down the stairs.

_Three… two… one… zero._

And the entire second floor dissolves like smoke.

Arkytior screams.

~o*o~

And the Dreamer wakes up.

Around her, everything is white. _Zero room_ , her mind immediately concludes, and she sits up and looks around in confusion.

The first thing she realizes is that she can remember again.

The second thing is that something is missing.

“What?” she whispers, then freezes--the last thing she remembers is pain tearing her mind apart, and--

The door opens and the Doctor enters, his face lined with worry. “The TARDIS told me you were awake. Are you alright?”

She flinches, backs away, gasps for air. “That--my TARDIS, my ship, and you made me _kill_ Her.”

“Arkytior…”

“Don’t. Just don’t.” She blocks the bond, hard, and pushes past him, running down the corridors to her room, the TARDIS helpfully shifting the doors to make it easier.

“Arkytior, wait!” the Doctor calls after her, but she ignores him, mentally begging the TARDIS to hide her door.

There’s a hum of acknowledgement, and the Dreamer steps into the en suite and stares at herself in the mirror. Outwardly she looks no different, until you look in her eyes. Dark, dead, empty... the look in them makes her shiver.

Then all the mental agony the zero room was helping block collapses on her all at once, and she barely drags herself back to the bed before she’s curling into a ball and screaming into a pillow, sobbing and crying and shattering and the pain won’t stop. Her eyes close, and she sees the Warrior burned onto the underside of her eyelids, and then his body morphs and becomes the Doctor she knows now, and the Dreamer makes herself very small and prays to nothing that he will not find her.


	31. Interlude: Shock

Interlude--Shock

The Doctor sits in the galley, nursing a cup of tea.

He is most decidedly  _ not _ sulking. No, he’s… pondering. Yes, right, pondering. And he does not want company, thank you very much. Not that the TARDIS seems to care. Oh, no, in fact he can hear Amy and Rory asking the ship for help. The lights flash once and the humans come in.

“There you are, Doctor,” Rory says, stepping into the galley. He and Amy sit down across from him, and the Doctor has the sinking feeling he’s about to be subjected to an interrogation. “You still haven’t told us what happened while we were about to be thrown off into the Vortex.”

The Doctor takes a gulp of tea. “Are you ready for another adventure?”

“Raggedy man!” Amy snaps. “Stop it. You still haven’t even told Rory who you guys are, and we have a right to know what happened! We could’ve died!”

“Could’ve, but you didn’t.” The Doctor shrugs. “Not my story to tell. You’ll have to ask Arkytior.”

“Have you even talked to her since you got back to the TARDIS?” Amy asks.

“She didn’t want to talk.” His voice is quiet. “Now, if you’re done interrogating me--”

“Who even  _ are _ the two of you?” Rory exclaims suddenly, leaning forward and slamming his hands on the table. “With your fancy screwdrivers and-and your weird golden--time magic. You  _ drug _ the Dreamer back in here while she was screaming!”

The lights in the galley all go out at once. There’s a moment of complete, absolute silence, and then they return. And Arkytior slips inside the room.

“I was screaming?” 

All three freeze at her voice.

“The TARDIS seems to have… misplaced the rest of the ship.” Arkytior shrugs a little. “I stepped out of my room and the door disappeared behind me, and this is the only other door.”

She walks across the room and leans against the counter, hands behind her back. “I didn’t know I was screaming.”

“You were,” the Doctor says. “I knocked you out so you’d stop fighting me.”

“What happened?” Amy asks quietly.

Silence settles over the galley. The Doctor opens his mouth, closes it, then opens it again. “When the TARDIS got stuck in the materialization loop, She was unable to help support Arkytior’s mind, and it… shut down. Locked away all non-essential memories, nearly shut down the telepathic receptors.”

“The upstairs floor,” Arkytior starts slowly. “Was a TARDIS. An unstable, wrecked, half-mad TARDIS.” She takes a deep breath, swallows. “My TARDIS. She was--TARDISes have a black hole at the center of them, a piece of the Eye of Harmony--Hers was unstable. If She’d ran anything, it would’ve created a black hole large enough to suck in the entire Solar System.”

There’s a second of silence.

“Aren’t you, like… connected to the TARDIS, though?” Amy asks. Rory frowns at her, but she shakes her head. 

“Yes.” The Dreamer swallows. “All TARDIS units were programmed with an Emergency Kill switch, an Emergency Programme that would cause the TARDIS to swallow Her own timeline and erase Herself from existence. I--”

“I forced her to choose between killing her own TARDIS or letting the ship kill me,” the Doctor interrupts, and he stares at the table and clenches its edge tightly with his hands. His fingers turn white. “I’m so very sorry, Arkytior.”

“No, no, it’s alright.” She offers him a jagged-glass smile. “I’ll be alright, I promise--I’m not angry, just… hurt. Just need some time alone with the TARDIS, if that’s alright.” She glances back towards the door, which had quite conveniently disappeared during the conversation. There’s a soft hum from the TARDIS, and the door returns, open invitingly.

Amy and Rory exchange a glance, then rise and turn towards the door. “Yeah. Doctor,” Amy says, “we’ll wait for you in the console room. You said you had something to show us?”

“Yeah,” the Doctor answers. “Just… give me a moment.” He rises and moves to stand in front of the Dreamer as the two humans leave the room. “I really am sorry,” he says, voice soft. “It wasn’t a fair decision.”

“Neither was Gallifrey versus the universe,” she answers, equally subdued. “I’ll be alright, I promise, alright? Just need some time alone. I’m not mad at you.”

“Touche.” He grins a little, lifts a hand and brushes a bit of hair behind her ear. “Just let me know if you need anything, alright?”

She nods. “I will.”

He searches her eyes for a moment before leaving the galley. Only then does the Dreamer pull her hands out from behind her back.

They shimmer brightly golden.

~o*o~

“I can’t believe I’ve never thought of this before. It’s genius. Right. Landed. Come along, Pond.” The Doctor flips the hand brake and runs to the doors.

“Where are we?” Amy asks curiously.

“Planet One. The oldest planet in the universe. And there's a cliff of pure diamond, and according to legend, on the cliff there's writing. Letters fifty feet high. A message from the dawn of time. And no one knows what it says, because no one's ever translated it.” He opens the doors. “Until today.”

“What happens today?” Rory frowns, coming up behind Amy and the Doctor.

“Us. The TARDIS can translate anything. All we have to do is look outside and read the very first words in recorded history.”

“What’s it say?”

“Look outside and see for yourself, Rory,” Amy murmurs.

_ Hello Sweetie  _

_ ΘΣ ΦΓΥΔζ _

~o*o~

_ It’s just stress--I just lost my timeship, that’s all it is, _ Arkytior tells herself, staring at the terrifyingly familiar glow. The sink faucet is metal, and she looks at herself in the warped, distorted reflection. 

There’s no mistaking the golden fire in her eyes.

_ Just a stress reaction. The pain triggered it. _ She knows there’s more, though, can feel the golden fire racing through her body and her mind, and gasping for breath she tries to force it back behind the wall in her mind.

(it doesnt want to be cooped up)

(no, it cant be)

She’s unstable. She can feel the searing heat rolling through her, golden fire cresting in waves across her skin, and then… it stops. Cools. Calms.

Controlled once more.

Her hands, though, are still glowing. They tremble as she stares at them, fear-terror-horror-pain rushing through her mind.  _ Can’t tell Theta--I might hurt him, I can’t do that… I’ll just have to hide it. Ignore it. I can do that… but they’ll notice! _

She takes a deep breath.  _ Spend some time in my room, maybe, say my mind hurts and I need to be alone… _

“Arkytior!” The Doctor’s voice echoes down the corridor from the console room. “I need you, River left us a note!”

“Rassilon,” she swears softly. “Coming!”

There’s a soft hum from the TARDIS, and a simple chain with a Gallifreyan pendant appears on the counter. A low-level perception filter is hidden within.  _ Thank you, Old Girl. _ Slipping the necklace about her neck, the Dreamer exits the galley and makes her way to the console room.

Amy grins at the Dreamer when she arrives. “Vavoom!”


	32. The Pandorica--Part One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I went pretty AU here, but tried to still capture the feel of the original episode. I hope you like it! Eternal gratitude to thisisthevoiceoflightcity, who helped me plan this arc.

The Pandorica--Part One

“Where are we?” the Dreamer asks as the TARDIS lands.

“Earth, Britain, 102 AD,” the Doctor answers, throwing the doors open.

The TARDIS sits on a wooded hill, overlooking a Roman camp.

“That’s a Roman legion,” Rory says.

“Well, yeah. The Romans invaded Britain several times during this time period.”

“My favorite topic at school.” Amy grins. “The Invasion of the Hot Italians. Yeah, I got marked down for the title.”

“Why are we here?” the Dreamer asks the Doctor.

“Planet One, the oldest writing in the universe.”

“Right, I know what you’re talking about.”

“Hello Sweetie and these coordinates.” He makes a face. “The woman certainly knows how to find us.”

Before anything more can be said, a young Roman soldier comes running up, breath coming in great gasps. Skidding to a stop, the young man snaps out a sharp salute. “Hail, Caesar!”

“Hi,” the Doctor answers after a second.

“Welcome to Britain. We are honoured by your presence.”

“Well, you’re only human. Arise, Roman Person.”

“Why does he think you’re Caesar?” Amy asks.

Looking closer at the young man, the Dreamer grins. “See the lipstick stain?”

“Cleopatra and Mark Antony will see you now.”

~o*o~

They’re taken to a tent.

The young Roman leaves them there, after gesturing for them to enter. The Doctor slips inside first, followed by the Dreamer, then Amy and Rory. Within the opulent interior there waits River and Jack.

“Hello, sweeties.” 

“Hey Rose, Doc.” Jack grins. “And crew.”

“River, Jack. Hi,” Amy says.

“Er, you wouldn’t mind, actually explaining who these people are, would you?” Rory asks in response. 

“Right. Rory Williams, meet Doctor River Song and Captain Jack Harkness.”

“Jack’s an old friend,” the Dreamer explains quickly. “Who’s also kind of immortal. River is… a friend. A time traveller from the fifty-first century. Our timelines are out of sync with hers.”

“Anyway, the point.  _ You _ graffitied the oldest cliff face in the universe.” The Doctor glares.

“You wouldn’t answer your phone,” River answers with a shrug.

“Kind of immortal?” Rory raises his eyebrows. “You are so  _ weird _ . Everything makes even less sense after you explain it.”

“Doc, what do you make of this?” Jack interrupts, pulling out a rolled-up canvas. “We borrowed it from Liz Ten’s Royal Collection. It’s an authentic Van Gogh.”

He unrolls the canvas and everything freezes.

The TARDIS, shimmering and wreathed in golden flame, edges blurring with the endless blackness all around Her.

“Vincent had… visions,” Jack adds quietly. “I helped him out, once. He was attacked by a Krafayis. Was the only one who could see it. It was painted into one of his paintings; I had to check it out. Someone’s got to investigate the stuff you two miss.”

“Does it have a title?” The Doctor asks.

“The Pandorica.”

“Doctor?” Amy looks between the Doctor and the Dreamer, concern etched on her face. “Dreamer? What does it mean?”

“I have no idea,” the Dreamer answers quickly.  _ Too _ quickly. The Doctor looks at her, opens his mouth to argue, but River and Jack are already moving on.

“We’ve got horses outside,” River explains. 

“Er, what’s the Pandorica?” Rory asks, trailing behind the group as they gather around the aforementioned horses.

“A box, a cage, a prison. Take your pick.” River swings herself into the saddle of one of the horses. “Come on, let’s move.”

“It’s a fairy tale, a legend,” the Doctor argues. “It can’t be real.”

The Dreamer mounts her horse. The motion causes the perception filter to slip out in front of her, and she hurries to tuck it back beneath her shirt, hands shaking.

“Some legends say it’s a bunker,” Jack adds. “The most secure place ever to exist in all the universe. Built to protect Hope from some kind of cataclysm.”

“Like a reverse Pandora’s Box?” Amy asks.

“Exactly like.” River grins over her shoulder. “It’s been hidden, buried for centuries. But if you’d buried your only hope, you’d want to remember where you put it.”

~o*o~

Of  _ course _ that’s why Stonehenge.

It’s getting late by the time they arrive, and Jack and River hurry within the circle of stones, placing devices at certain points.

“How come it’s not new?” Amy asks as they enter the ring.

River answers. “Because it’s already old. It’s been here thousands of years. No one knows exactly how long.”

Amy goes on to ask River something else--the Dreamer catches the word ‘Byzantium’ and River’s answer of ‘spoilers’, but she pays it little attention. Standing off to the side and leaning against one of the tall stones, she wonders at the legends.  _ A bunker, containing the universe’s last hope… _ Something clicks, and she swallows. A box.  _ A box can’t  _ do  _ anything to stop--there’s got to be another way, I can’t…  _ She takes a shuddering breath.  _ But--the Pandorica is here, it’s already happened… which means there’s no way out. That-that’s fine, that’s okay, but there’s one thing you never put in a trap--how? _

(iwantyousafemydoctor)

Blinking, the Dreamer shoves the memory away.  _ Not the time, stop it. _

“Doctor, Rose, I’m picking up fry particles everywhere. Energy weapons discharged on this site.” River frowns.

“We need to get down there,” the Dreamer says, pulling herself out of her musings.

“Fry particles?” Rory asks, to no one in particular.

Nobody bothers to answer him.

“Right,” Jack says after a few minutes. “We’re ready--let’s get this show on the road.”

A grinding, whirring noise echoes up from the ground, and then the giant stone slab shifts to one side, revealing a dark staircase.

“The Underhenge.” The Doctor steps forward, face grave, and descends the staircase.

~o*o~

A dark tunnel leads through a massive, barred door, opening out into a chamber. At the chamber’s center there sits… a box. Dark, like everything else, with faint circular designs etched across one face. The stone is too worn to make out what they’re supposed to be.

“It’s a Pandorica,” the Doctor says.

“Really? I hadn’t noticed,” Arkytior mutters under her breath, taking in the large object.

“Not a fairy tale after all,” Jack agrees. “Pretty impressive, I’ve got to say.”

“It’s a transmitter. Stonehenge,” River clarifies. She walks over to stand near the Doctor. “It’s been beaming out a message to the universe. ‘The time has come. The Pandorica opens.’”

“It’s stone,” Rory says, like it should be obvious. Amy gives him a look, and he hurries to elaborate. “How can stone be a transmitter? In 102 AD?”

“Complicated, timey-wimey stuff. You wouldn’t understand.” The Doctor waves his hands around dismissively. Pulling out his sonic, he walks around the Pandorica, aiming the sonic at it. “Right, if it’s just a transmitter, I should be able to fold back the signal, feed it through Jack’s vortex manipulator.”

“SCAN DE-TECTS PRE-SENCE OF SO-NIC TECH-NO-LO-GY.”

“MAIN-TAIN OR-BIT. THE PAN-DOR-IC-A HAS NOT OP-ENED.”

“I O-BEY.”

“Daleks,” Amy breathes. “Those are Daleks.”

“Daleks?” Rory asks, bewildered.

“Why are they waiting?” River asks.

“Waiting for the Pandorica to open,” Arkytior says. “It must be close.”

Golden fire pulses through her once again and she takes a shuddering breath, hoping the perception filter holds. None of the others seem to notice anything odd, and gradually she relaxes.

“Doctor, there’s more,” Jack says.

“Course correction proceeding,” the synthesized metal voice of a Cyberman says, echoing from the vortex manipulator. “We are ready. Contact the Alliance. The Doctor has been confirmed.”

“Cyberships.” The Doctor frowns. “But, hang on. Alliance? What Alliance? There’s never been an alliance between Cybermen and Daleks, the Daleks wouldn’t allow it. Battle of Canary Wharf, the Cybermen tried.

Jack swears. “Sontarans, four battlefleets. Terileptil. Slitheen, Chelonian, Nestene, Drahvin. Sycorax, Haemogoth, Zygon, Atraxi, Draconian. All of them waiting for the Pandorica to open up.”

“Sonic technology detected,” Arkytior murmurs. “They’re looking for us specifically. Why else would they scan for sonic devices?”

“Would somebody  _ mind _ explaining what the hell is going on?” Rory asked suddenly.

River whirls, pierces him with a sharp, hard gaze. “Orbiting this planet are battle-ready fleets containing all the Doctor’s worst enemies, and behind you is a box. The most secure box ever to exist. The universe could explode and that box would survive it. And it’s opening. The Doctor’s enemies have formed an alliance, they’ve lured the Doctor here, and now they’re waiting.”

“For the box to open,” Amy finishes, horrified. “Oh my god, they’re going to put the Doctor in the Pandorica!”

“But what about the painting?” 

“Rory Williams,” the Doctor begins, “I knew there must’ve been a reason Amy likes you.”

“The painting shows the TARDIS at the end of the universe, I think,” River answers. “That isn’t necessarily literal.”

“If these people are all so terrible, why would they be working together?” Rory continues. “It doesn’t make any sense. Why would you put the Doctor in the Pandorica?”

“We need to find out why,” Jack says. “Doctor, can I take the TARDIS? Run some scans and do some research, see what it is that’s making even the  _ Daleks _ join an alliance against you. Hopefully we’ll figure out what the point of all this is.”

“River, go with him, make sure he doesn’t blow Her up,” the Time Lord answers.

“Try not to die, Jack.” The Dreamer runs over to the immortal man, ignoring the twinge of discomfort he causes her timesense. “And don’t start anything--including any orgies. Alright?”

Jack laughs, sweeping her into a hug. “No promises,” he tells her with a wink. Setting her down, he unbuckles his vortex manipulator, gesturing for River to do the same. “Emergency escape route, in case you need them. Take ‘em both. Four people on one manipulator is  _ not _ pleasant.”

The Doctor winces. “No, it most certainly isn’t. Amy, Rory, put those on.”

“But--” Rory starts.

“That’s why I’m here, Pond. Now shut up and put on the vortex manipulator.”

“I’m not a Pond,” Rory mutters.

River laughs. “Yet. Ooh, spoilers.” She winks, then turns to head up the staircase.

“Wait!” the Dreamer calls. She reaches inside her pocket, pulling out her sonic. Old and battered from years of use, the TARDIS had just given it a tune-up a few days ago, adding a few new settings to it. “River, catch.”

She flips the sonic end-over-end through the air, and with a grin River snags it, twirls it through her fingers, and shoves it in a pocket.

“Keep it,” the Dreamer adds, for reasons she can’t explain. “But don’t show it to us if we’re before this point in the timeline. I don’t know about this until now.”

“Understood,” River says with a nod. Then she and Jack turn and vanish up the staircase.

~o*o~

“Right,” Jack says, throwing a lever and pressing a few buttons. “What’s the plan?”

“Search for information.” River snaps her fingers, and the TARDIS doors shut. She moves to stand in front of the scanner, entering a set of coordinates, then pulls a lever. “A Dalek base. The TARDIS has extrapolator shielding, we can stay behind the edge of its range and talk to them.”

“Sounds good,” Jack answers, flipping the dematerialization lever and quickly moving to spin a couple dials. He presses another button. “Hopefully Rose and the Doc’ll be alright.”

“Yeah.” River sighs, pushes a row of three switches towards the time rotor, then grabs the edge of the console as the TARDIS shudders and materializes. “Would you get the handbrake?”

Jack sets the brake, then goes to the doors. “Ready, Doctor Song?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

They step outside.

“A-LERT! TAR-DIS DE-TEC-TED!”

Jack stares at the handful of Daleks gathered in front of them. “Aren’t you going to exterminate us?”

“SUCH AN ACT-ION WOULD BE POINT-LESS.”

“What?” River takes a step back. “Why? How?”

“WE HAVE RE-CEIVED THE SIG-NAL. THE UL-TI-MATE EX-TER-MIN-ATION AP-PROACH-ES. WE WAIT.”

“What the hell is ‘the ultimate extermination’?” Jack steps forward, dangerously close to the edge of the extrapolator shield.

“IT HAS BEEN FORE-TOLD.” The Dalek spokesman rolls forward. “THE WOLF GIVES US PO-WER AND WE GIVE HER THE STORM.”

“The Wolf?” River shakes her head. “What--oh. No. You’re lying. You call her the Abomination, why would you make a deal with her?”

“THE WOLF PRO-MISED THE UL-TI-MATE EX-TER-MIN-ATION. THE UN-I-VERSE SHALL BE EX-TER-MIN-ATED. ALL SHALL DIE. IT IS OUR FI-NAL VIC-TO-RY!”

“Oh my god,” Jack whispers. “River, TARDIS,  _ now _ !”

They run inside, the doors slamming shut on their own accord. The cloister bell is ringing, ringing. River fumbles with the scanner, finally giving up and closing her eyes.

_ Doctor! _

~o*o~

“The TARDIS at the end of the universe,” the Doctor mutters, pacing back and forth between the large door and the Pandorica. “I’m missing something, something right in front of me. Staring me in the face. Why would Van Gogh paint the TARDIS at the end of the universe?”

“Doctor,” Rory starts nervously.

“I don’t like not knowing things. This doesn’t make any sense. What’s the  _ point _ ? There has to be a connection, but I can’t see it.”

“Doctor!” Amy snaps.

“What?” He turns. “Oh.”

The Pandorica is glowing gold. Heat radiates out from it, but that’s not the most shocking part. The faint pattern on each face, whorls and lines barely made out, now shines gold against the black box.

It’s Gallifreyan.

“Hang on, that looks like the language on the scanner,” Amy says.

“That’s because it is,” the Dreamer answers quietly. 

The Doctor steps closer to the Pandorica. “It’s a rhyme,” he says. His voice is still, flat, dangerous. “Bad Wolf at the end of days, Bad Wolf lies all other ways, Bad Wolf sets the skies ablaze, And somewhere--” He sucks in a choked breath. “And somewhere Rose is screaming.”

River’s vortex manipulator, on Amy’s wrist, crackles with static and River’s voice echoes out of it. “Doctor! Can you hear me?”

“Yes, yes, hello River. What is it?”

“I’m using the TARDIS’s long-range empathic circuits, but I don’t have much time. Listen, Doctor, we went to a Dalek base. They said, and I quote, ‘The Wolf gives us power and we give her the Storm.’ They also talked about ‘the ultimate extermination.’ Doctor, the universe is about to explode.”

The perception filter turns to dust and floats to the floor.

_ “No, not the universe. Time itself.” _

One face of the Pandorica swings open, revealing a chair and straps.

_ “We are burning, already burning.” _

The Doctor whirls. “Amy, Rory,  _ run _ !” The humans look at each other, then turn and flee without question, leaving the Doctor alone. “Arkytior, no, you can control it. Just--relax, breathe, lock it away--” His voice stumbles to a stop and he takes a ragged breath.

_ “We are unstable. We were not created to live for so long, and there has been too much stress upon the balance. We burn. Come no closer, our Doctor, we must not hurt you! The signal has been given. The Time has come--the Moment has come, the Moment is… us.”  _ A sharp, feral smile slashes her face, but she’s crying golden tears.  _ “We want you safe, our Doctor, and safe you will be. We can do anything.” _

“THE DOC-TOR WILL EN-TER THE PAN-DOR-IC-A! O-BEY!”

And behind the Daleks, Cybermen. “Obey or be deleted.” And Sontarans, and Auton soldiers, striding down the staircase, all with the purpose of putting the Doctor inside the Pandorica.

“Arkytior, what are you doing? No, please!” he gasps out frantically, backing away. “No, you can’t--”

_ “We are so, so very sorry. Goodbye, our Doctor.” _

She vanishes in a swirl of gold.

Two Cybermen grab the Doctor, one on each arm, and shove him bodily inside the Pandorica. An Auton steps forward, buckling the straps, and then all three aliens back away. There’s a grinding sound and a flash of gold, and then the Pandorica shuts.

The light goes out.

And then everything flares bright, brilliant, Time-essence gold, a Wolf howls, and everything fades into whiteness.

Beyond it all, a girl screams.


	33. The Pandorica--Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you like it. Only the epilogue left! :D

The Pandorica--Part Two

They don’t quite make it in time.

The TARDIS is just about to materialize when She screams in River’s mind and everything happens very fast after that. 

When everything stops spinning and crashing and shaking, the time rotor glows a baleful blood-red, and Jack swears.

“I’ve only seen Her like this once,” he says. “When the Master turned Her into a paradox machine.”

River draws in a shaking breath. “We’ve landed somewhere. The poor Old Girl, She must’ve cannibalized Herself to do--what?”

“I guess we’ll see.”

They’re on Earth, near a museum in Leadworth, according to River. But the sky is wrong. It takes Jack almost five minutes to realize what’s wrong about it--the stars are gone.

The stars are gone and instead of the sun and the moon there’s a golden-mist streak running through the sky and the only thing Jack can think is that it looks like the Vortex.

“Maybe it is,” River says when he mentions it to her. “The TARDIS obviously did something--maybe She somehow… looped the Vortex around Earth. Protect it from whatever’s happened.”

“Right.” Jack frowns, looks around. “It looks like we’re in Amy’s present, that’s 2010, right?”

River nods. “The eye of the storm. Come on, let’s look inside the museum.”

The Pandorica is in a special exhibit room, past a stone Dalek (which Jack really wants to shoot) and some fake greenery. It looks exactly the same as when they last saw it.

“It’s been 1,998 years since we last saw it and it hasn’t changed a bit.” Jack reaches out and touches the smooth surface, then jumps back in shock as it flares gold. “What the hell?”

“It reacted to something--maybe the artron energy in your body?” River frowns, looks closer. “I don’t know.”

After a tense minute, the glow dies down. “Hang on, Amy and Rory.” Jack steps away from the Pandorica. “They don’t know how to use the vortex manipulators and we can’t take the TARDIS to go and get them.”

River swallows. “Oh.” Takes a breath. “I guess we’re on our own, then.” 

“They would’ve had to wait for us.” Jack shakes his head. “For two  _ thousand _ years. Hell, River, do you think there’s any way we can go back and get them?”

“They’ve got the vortex manipulators and if we move the TARDIS, we lose this… grace period she’s given us.” River swallows, hard. “They waited for us and we never came.”

That’s when they hear the Dalek.

“EX-TER-MIN-ATE!”

Jack spins, pulls out his sonic blaster. The Dalek is slow, slower than it should be, but before he can shoot the ray hits him in the chest and he falls to the floor.

“Hey, tinpot!”

The Dalek rotates, painfully slow, and Rory Williams steps out from the shadows holding a taser and electrocutes the alien.

~o*o~

They realized they weren’t aging about five years after the stars turned to dust.

Rory had become a Roman legionnaire, finally becoming promoted (or whatever it was they did, Amy wasn’t really sure) to centurion around the fifth year. They decided it had something to do with time travel and this being an alternate timeline.

Well, Amy decided that anyway. Rory didn’t understand half of what she said. But he did know that he made a good Roman centurion, and when Amy told him they were going to have to wait for Jack and River with the TARDIS, he figured staying with the Romans was as good a plan as any.

That plan got derailed after only a decade or so. Once the Romans realized neither Rory nor Amy were aging, well… it was all over. So they fled and hid among the pagans in Ireland.

Rory kept the sword, armor, and cloak.

And so it went for the first hundred years or so, maybe a bit longer, they lost the exact count after the first fifty-ish. They’d stay somewhere until their lack of aging was noticed, then they’d run and find someplace new to hide. But after around a century of this, they grew tired of the lifestyle. That was when Amy came up with a new plan.

“So the Daleks and everyone else, they put the Doctor inside the Pandorica and then they disappeared, right? Turned to dust.”

Rory nods. It’d been a shock, to put it mildly, when they returned to Stonehenge from their hiding place to find the Pandorica dark and silent and cold, surrounded by golden dust. Not to mention the Time Vortex hanging out in the sky took some getting used to… “Right, yeah. What about it?”

“No one else knows what it is and who’s in it,” Amy starts. “What if they try to break it open or steal it? When Jack and River get back, we need the Doctor to be safe…”

“If Jack and River are even still alive,” Rory mutters, but he nods. “Yeah, I see your point.”

And thus, the Last Centurion and his Guardian Angel (or sometimes goddess--it all depended on the culture, really), protectors of the Pandorica, were born.

“Two thousand years, we’ve been waiting,” Rory says now, putting the taser back on his belt. He’s wearing a security guard uniform with his Roman centurion cloak--a very odd combination, but somehow he pulls it off. “You could’ve told us how to use the vortex manipulators.”

Jack gasps and sits up, gets to his feet, and glares at the Dalek. “I’ve been shot by many things,” he starts, “but it isn’t an every-day-death, getting shot by something that doesn’t technically exist.”

Amy walks over, then, holding four bags of fresh chips. “Thought you might be hungry. You know, there was a time when I thought twelve years was a ridiculous amount to miss. We passed it a  _ very _ long time ago.”

“We had no control,” River says, speaking for the first time. “The TARDIS nearly died. She landed when She could.”

“We need to get the Doctor out,” Amy says after a minute. She hands out the chips, munching on one from her own bag as she walks over to the Pandorica. “Could we, I don’t know, use the Vortex manipulators to hop back in time and grab the Doctor before he’s sealed in there?”

Jack shakes his head. “Not without breaking every law of time travel, twice. It’s not a good idea.”

“And, given how we’re all complicated space-Time events, it could cause any one of us to… not exist.” River shakes her head. “The risk isn’t worth the reward, not this time.”

“So how do we get him out?” Rory asks. “We won’t survive this without the Doctor.”

River pulls her new sonic from her pocket. “I have a theory,” she says as she scans the Pandorica. “The Bad Wolf created the Pandorica, meaning that there is artron energy in it somewhere. The sonic confirms that. Now, I’m  _ guessing _ here, but the Pandorica lit up when Jack touched it. Not only is he a time traveller, but he has the added benefit of being ‘created’, so to speak, by Bad Wolf. In theory, if we can magnify the artron energy in his body--maybe combined with one or more of us as well--we might be able to get the Pandorica to think we’re Bad Wolf, and open.”

“So we’re trying to trick a box into thinking we’re some kind of… ultra-powerful Time goddess?” Rory asks.

“I explained who Bad Wolf is while we waited,” Amy adds.

“Basically, yes,” River says. “With the sonic, Jack and I might be able to use the Vortex manipulators to, well… it’s complicated.”

Jack considers it for a moment. “If we do it right, we can get the Doctor out. If not… we’re screwed.” He sighs. “Hopefully, we do it right.”

“Let’s get to work.”

Amy and Rory hand over the Vortex manipulators, and River and Jack sit down near the Pandorica with the sonic in hand and begin.

~o*o~

It takes a few hours, but finally the Vortex manipulators are in pieces on the floor and there’s a strange-looking piece of equipment sitting between Jack and River, ready to work. After a minute of staring at it, the two rise, and Jack puts one hand on the Pandorica and the amplifier wraps around his hand. River activates the sonic and presses it against the amplifier--there’s a second of nothing, and then--

The Pandorica gleams bright Time-essence gold. 

The Gallifreyan script begins to spin, the words twisting over and over until River can hardly make them out, but she manages to translate the first line.

_ Bad Wolf at the end of days. _

She shivers. Steps back, instinctively, as the light grows brighter--Amy and Rory do the same (they’re still holding hands. Have been since Amy came back). Jack stays where he is--he’s got no survival instinct, the crazy (beautiful) idiot he is, but he brings his free hand up to shield his eyes. 

The Pandorica glows so brightly she thinks they’ve made a mistake, that they’ll all burn and the Doctor’ll be trapped forever, and then--just when she thinks it’s about to explode--

It stops.

River doesn’t  _ quite _ dare to look, not yet, something like fear coursing through her bones, and she clutches the sonic tightly with one hand and wonders why she’s so afraid.

“Oi, you lot. What do you call all this?” The Doctor speaks, breaks the tense silence so easily. Like he always does.

“The end of the world,” she answers him, finally looking. Taking a careful breath, hiding her emotions--as she always does--meeting his eyes and trying not to recoil.

“So Tuesday, then.” He grins, as happy and human as ever, but there’s something dark and flat and utterly  _ cracked _ beneath his voice, something broken. It makes her skin crawl and a shiver run down her spine. Two thousand years of screams, lurking in the depths of his eyes, and she can  _ feel _ his mask breaking.

She pushes the thought away, as she always does--because she must, in this crazy life of backwards-to-forwards, of hiding and secrets and spoilers, because knowing (or seeing) too much could make it all unravel in a heartsbeat--but it lingers there, just below the surface, and she shivers.

“Honestly,” he declares, undoing the straps, “there are more comfortable ways to take a nap.”

Rory finally tries to break the silence. “The Dreamer--she--”

The Doctor leaps to his feet. “Rory! Nice cloak. Rory the Roman. It suits you. Do you have the armor and the sword, too?” He doesn’t wait for Rory to answer him. “The Dreamer--” he pauses, and when was the last time River heard him call her the Dreamer? “The Dreamer is currently imploding, Bad Wolf destroying her from the inside out, and as long as reality’s like this she always will be. Bad Wolf was too unstable to last--a chronoform’s mind and power trapped within the body of a chronarch would last longer than a human body, but even a Time Lord cannot hold the full power of the Vortex for long. The chameleon arch and the fact that there’s no Gallifrey to keep the laws of physics in line gave her a little time, but nothing lasts forever.” He’s quiet for a moment. “All things must come to dust, and everything dies.” A breath. He sticks out a finger, tests the air. “Anyway! Unless I’m mistaken, we’re all still here anyway, which means the TARDIS has turned herself into a paradox machine to keep us here.”

“Exploding.” Jack sucks in a breath. He still stands beside the Pandorica, hand enmeshed in the web of circuitry, and he makes no effort to move. “You mean she’s--”

“Dead, yes, or she will be.” The smile painted on the Doctor’s face doesn’t change, but the screams in his eyes are almost audible, now. “The universe has never existed, Time is dust, the TARDIS is the only thing keeping us all here and as soon as She snaps--which won’t be long, now--we’ll all be gone too.” A distorted, twisted laugh leaves his mouth, and he cocks his head--a motion that should be human but isn’t. “You know, you’ve really let the place go while I was gone.”

~o*o~

Amy stays quiet through the whole conversation, watching and listening and internally she’s crying. Because the Doctor--oh, the Doctor--his voice and his smile are all just how she remembers, only better, but there’s something so  _ wrong _ and when she looks into his eyes she’s surrounded by nothingness. 

She wasn’t going to speak. The Doctor won’t want to hear it. But she finds herself speaking anyway. “I think the Pandorica transmitter was still working,” she says, so softly she’s not sure if anyone can even hear her. Rory squeezes her hand, tightly, and she squeezes it back. “At night, sometimes, we could hear screaming.”

The Doctor’s face never changes, but he looks ancient and the grim slash-smile on his face is painful to look at and she can almost  _ see _ his hearts shattering. “Right. Well, the TARDIS isn’t going to last forever, so we need to move on.”

He’s not done talking. His mouth opens, he’s about to babble on, but then he stops. “Rory the Roman. Why are you a Roman?”

Jack slowly pulls his hand out from the cobbled-together amplifier, letting the wires fall unheeded to the floor. “I’m wondering that myself. Obviously they had to blend in, but the Romans were gone from Britain by 410 AD, so why keep the getup?”

Rory nods at a screen on the wall--one of those commentaries with the history and significance of the museum exhibit. River aims her sonic at it, starts the playback--and they all listen.

“Through all the years, everywhere the Pandorica has been, there have been two figures always present. Legends call them the Pandorica’s guardians--bound by loyalty and trust to the protection of the great monument, rumored to contain Hope itself. The Last Centurion and his Guardian Angel, spending centuries at the Pandorica’s side. We may never know who--or what--they are, but we do know that their devotion to saving Hope far surpasses even the most courageous acts in history.”

The playback stops. Rory swallows. “We watched over you, Doctor. Kept the Pandorica safe. It was all we could do.”

“Why haven’t we aged?” Amy asks. 

The Doctor shrugs, a too-swift jerk of his shoulders. “I don’t know, probably because this is an alternate timeline, the Vortex is looped, and the TARDIS likes you.” It’s not an answer, not really, but it’s the best they’re going to get and Amy knows that.

(she’s never seen the Doctor this alien before)

(and that’s more terrifying than everything she’s faced)

Then the air is shattered by a mechanical grinding.

“exxx-terrrr-miiiin-aaate” a creaky metal voice grumbles out, and the half-dead Dalek whirrs slowly back into view. By the time it gets its ray gun up, Rory’s pulled out his taser, but the Dalek manages to fire off a single shot before it dies again.

Jack takes the shot in the head this time--Amy’s fairly certain it has to hurt--and it seems like it takes him longer than usual to wake up. He groans. “Doc, the universe almost forgot me that time. I really hope you have a plan, because history’s too unstable and that Dalek can’t keep shooting me.”

“To the TARDIS.” The Doctor walks straight past them all, his movements just slightly too fluid, too smooth, almost inhuman. “I have a plan.”

~o*o~

River can already tell she’s not going to like his plan, and she knows Amy and Rory have come to the same conclusion. Or at least Amy has, and she’s told Rory through some unspoken communication--still together after two thousand years, and how close they’ve come. River can finally see how their characters developed into the couple she knows so well.

And it’s shattering her.

Any day now could be her last. Last adventure with the Doctor and Arkytior-Rose, last moment with her beautiful family of four--well, four right now. They’re missing one. And what about Jack? Her wonderful, silly rogue, who has to continue on, to meet a younger version of her, and she must go on and see a new, different him--and she’s afraid of what’ll happen if it goes far enough back, if she meets him while he’s still with Ianto.

Soon enough, none of them will know her at all, and she knows instinctively she’s so near the end.

River swallows, walks forward so she’s near the Doctor. “It doesn’t end here,” she tells him softly.

“Spoilers,” he answers, curt and brusque and utterly uncaring. He came when she called, but he’s still so young. He doesn’t trust her yet, not enough.

“Doctor--” she starts, but he brushes her off, strides out ahead of her. And then the TARDIS is there and it doesn’t matter anyway.

The Doctor inserts his key into the lock, turns it, opens the doors, and they all file inside the timeship in deep, unbroken silence. He looks at them each in turn, meeting their eyes, and there’s something terribly final about his gaze.

“You said you had a plan,” Rory finally says.

“Yes.” The Doctor takes a deep breath. “Vincent painted the TARDIS at the end of the universe, and he was right. And I’m so sorry, but you all are going to die. Even you, Harkness.” Into the shocked silence that descends, he explains his plan. “The TARDIS is looping the Vortex around Earth--it’s like a river, but a magnet. A magnet-river. The two ends repel each other, don’t like each other. The TARDIS has taken both ends of the Vortex and is holding them together, using Herself as a conduit. She won’t last much longer. But if I can contain the explosion, stop it--the instant I pilot the TARDIS away from here, everything will cease to exist except Her and whomever is inside Her.”

“The TARDIS at the end of the universe,” Jack murmurs.

“But I can reverse it.” The Doctor stares at them, eyes hard. “I can reverse it and bring everything back, reset the universe--except myself, the Dreamer, and the TARDIS.”

“No!” Amy runs forward, grabs the Doctor’s arm, eyes wide. “No, you can’t!”

“We’ll never have existed.” He smiles sadly. “You won’t remember us. Little Amelia Pond, all alone in that too-big house. Did you ever wonder why there were so many rooms? There was a crack in your wall and it ate your parents. You can have them back, you know. You just have to remember. If something can be remembered, it can be brought back.” His voice drops, softens. “The Girl Who Waited. Seems all I’ve ever done is made you wait for me.”

He steps away from Amy, leaving her crying silently behind him, steps to Rory. “Rory the Roman. The Last Centurion. I am  _ honoured _ to have had you as my protector.”

“Likewise,” Rory answers thickly. “It’s been an honor to protect you, Doctor.”

Jack snaps to attention, giving the Doctor a sharp salute. The Doctor pauses, then salutes him back. Then Jack grins. “Can’t break an old tradition,” he says with a wink, and steps forward and kisses the Doctor. Firmly. “Been nice knowing you, Doc.”

The Doctor smiles. “And you, Captain.”

Then he turns to River. “Doctor River Song. You’ll see me again.”

“Spoilers,” she answers, struggling to speak through block in her throat. “I hate you, Doctor.”

“No you don’t,” he says easily.

“Sometimes…” she whispers.

The cloister bell tolls, and the Doctor flies to the console. “Everyone, out! Time is running out!”

“Doctor--” Amy starts.

“Nothing is ever truly forgotten. You’re Amy Pond, you’re special. Grew up with the universe pouring into your head. If anyone can bring your parents back, it’s you.” He stares into her eyes. “Nothing is ever truly forgotten.”

“Now let’s go,” Jack says hurriedly. “Out, everyone out!”

Amy and Rory fly through the door, closely followed by Jack, and River runs after them. She glances back, once, just before she leaves.

The Doctor stands beside the console, statue-still, and the grief in his eyes could swallow a world.

~o*o~

It’s the worst flight the Doctor can remember, barring the War and the very first few flights he and the TARDIS ever made. Without a real Time Vortex to dance through, She’s using the remnant of Her Heart still within Bad Wolf to materialize around her. The ship shudders and groans and falls through nothingness and then suddenly--

Everything stops, and the console room is filled with golden flame.

The Doctor squints, staggers to his feet, searching for her, for Arkytior, with only the vaguest semblance of a plan in his head--all he can think about (very unusual given that Time Lord brains are  _ quite _ capable of multitasking) is reaching her. She’s  _ there _ , near the console, mouth open in a silent scream, and he stumbles through the golden heat and reaches out to touch her.

_ “No!” _ Her eyes fly open, solid gold, void of iris and pupil and white, and she staggers back.  _ “No, stop, mustn’t touch! We burn!” _

“I know,” he whispers. “Oh, I know.” He swallows, takes a shuddering breath. “Arkytior, if you’re still in there--if you can hear me--please. I don’t--I don’t know what to do. How do I stop it?”

_ “You cannot. We must burn. One mind cannot hold the Bad Wolf.” _ Tears pour down her cheeks.

And the Doctor laughs.

“That’s it!” he crows, flapping his arms about maniacally. “Oh, Doctor, you are so  _ thick _ ! Ha!”

She stares at him.  _ “We do not understand. There is nothing that can be done.” _

“You said it yourself, Bad Wolf, Arkytior, whoever you are--one mind can’t ever  _ hope _ to hold the Bad Wolf.” His grin widens, dangerous and somewhat insane. “But what about two?”

A triumphant pause.

“Arkytior, if you’ve got any control left, drop your mental shields.” He waits for a second, then closes the distance between them, sliding one hand around Arkytior’s waist and cupping her face with the other, ignoring the burning pain it causes. “I have waited two thousand years for this,” he mumbles, and then he leans down and kisses her, pressing his fingers to her temple at the same instant.

And everything flares gold.

~o*o~

When her eyes open, the first thing that registers is the absence of the Wolf.

The second thing is the Doctor.

He kneels next to her, leaning over her, terror-fear-desperation-love in his eyes, and whispers ‘please.’

“Theta,” she gasps. Everything’s fuzzy, but she sees him lean down, scoop her into his arms and then she’s snug against his chest, and for a moment everything is right again. But then everything comes crashing back down, and she doesn’t know what he’s done, but he is  _ not _ supposed to be here. “Theta--you--idiot.”

He laughs, a shaky, relieved whisper-laugh born more of adrenalin and fear and desperation than amusement, and pulls her closer. “Me, an idiot? That’s nothing new,” he murmurs into her hair. “Other’s grave, Arkytior, you scared me.”

“You’re supposed to be safe. In the Pandorica.” She was planning to yell, but her voice comes out a hysterical half-sob and suddenly she’s crying. “I wanted to save you and you just--you just ignored me, you stupid  _ idiot _ , and--” Her voice cuts out, smothered by her sobs.

The Doctor exhales, a ragged breath. “Arkytior--you know I never could’ve lived with myself if I just let you die.” He swallows, tightens his grip. “Rassilon, why didn’t you  _ tell _ me?” he exclaims suddenly. “I would’ve helped, we might’ve been able to stop this before it even happened! I thought you trusted me.”

“I love you,” she whispers, voice paper-thin. “I didn’t tell you because I had no idea what I’d do to you, on accident, and I--”

The TARDIS hums, soft and sad and strained, the lights flickering. A warning.

“We don’t have much time,” he tells her quietly. “I love you, Arkytior, always have and always will. Please--the bond is trust. Trust me. I  _ know _ you’d never hurt me.”

She whimpers a little. The pain is intensifying, she has so little time. “H-how can you be so sure? I’ve hurt so, so many people--”

“It’s called love.”

The TARDIS shakes, the lights going out for a moment before snapping back on at half the brightness they’d been, and the Doctor sighs. “We’re out of time.” A pause, a steadying breath. “Regeneration--can you?”

Arkytior stares up at him. “I don’t know,” she says. Shaking, pale, golden light flickering across her skin. “Maybe--might not have enough energy left though, I don’t know… doesn’t matter anyway, does it?”

“Of course it matters.” He swallows, presses a kiss to her forehead. “Time to reboot the universe, love. Wish me luck.”

Then he stands, reaches out, and pulls a lever.

~o*o~

“Something’s missing. Something big. We’re forgetting something, can’t you feel it?”

Rory Williams stares at his new bride, confusion written across his face. “Er, yes?”

“Are you saying that just to agree with me?” Amy challenges, glaring.

“Uh… yes…?”

She huffs.

She knows someone’s missing, the most important people, the ones who need to be here the most. They’re not here. Why? Why can’t she  _ remember _ ?

Someone, a blonde whose face she can’t quite see, slides a book onto the table in front of her. A blue book, a shade of blue she’s never seen before but  _ knows _ can only be found one place in the universe.

“Amy?” Rory asks softly.

She looks out at the crowd.  _ There, _ a bow tie, and  _ there _ , a woman with green eyes--

And Amelia Jessica Pond  _ remembers. _

“Shut up, Dad.” She stands, glares at him until he complies, then turns her gaze onto the crowd. “Sorry, but shut up, please. There’s someone missing, two someones, very important someones.”

“Amy, what’s wrong?” Rory stares up at her, confused.

“Sorry, everyone. But when I was little, I had two imaginary friends.”

“Oh no, not this again,” her mother groans.

“The raggedy Doctor and his Dreamer. But they weren’t imaginary, they were real.” Amy laughs. “I remember you! I remember! I brought the others back, I can bring you back too. Dreamer! Raggedy Man! I remember you,  _ and you are late for my wedding!” _


	34. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written by thisisthevoiceoflightcity, who has been instrumental in the last several chapters and will be beta-reading for me through the sequel, "When Silence Falls". This scene is eir brainchild, and I asked em to write it (ey was very excited to do so). Ey doesn't yet know I'm posting it. Just one thing--if you like this chapter, go look em up and read eir fic (especially "Neverland"--it's brilliant!).
> 
> The sequel, "When Silence Falls", will be posted some time in the next few days. If you've enjoyed this fic, be sure not to miss it! Thank you all so much for sticking with me. It's been a pleasure.  
> ~badwolfgirl, signing off

Epilogue

_Vworp - vworp - vworp._

"It's the Doctor," says Rory, distantly, astonished. "It's the Doctor and the Dreamer. How could we forget - Oh my god, I was a Roman. There were space fish ladies. Long story."

Amy can't stop grinning, marching up to the TARDIS doors triumphantly. "Did I surprise you this time?"

The Dreamer pokes her head out of the doors, grinning. "Yup. Very surprised."

"How lucky I happened to be wearing this old thing," the Doctor adds, popping out just above her. He's wearing a top hat and looks extremely pleased with himself. "Definitely, completely shocked, though. Never expected that."

"I'll show you something you aren't expecting," Amy announces, and grabs him by the arm, dragging him out the TARDIS doors with a muffled 'Whoa!' "You two've been in denial long enough, everybody's sick of it, come on."

"Where are we - " the Doctor puts in as they march across the foyer, heading for the doors. Various distant relations look vaguely scandalized; Rory scrambles to follow them. The Dreamer follows, too, giggling. "Amy?" he asks plainitively.

"Shh," Amy interjects, and kicks open the double doors to the church.

The pastor jumps and looks at her slightly strangely. Watches her pull the Doctor up the aisle. "...Back so soon, Mrs Pond?"

"Not me," she adds, and deposits the Doctor in front of the aisle. "Him." The Dreamer comes up willingly, still giggling. "And her, too. Do your thing," she declares sternly to the confused-looking pastor.

"Nice architecture," the Doctor supplies helpfully, staring at the ceiling.

"Trust me," Amy adds. They've already got a party going, after all, no sense in waiting.

The pastor looks at her a little strangely, shrugs, and grins a sudden (and surprisingly enthusiastic, if somewhat bemused) grin. He shuffles back behind the two Time Lords carefully - the Dreamer's prudently grabbed hold of the Doctor's coat to stop him wandering away - and starts talking.

The Doctor pipes up about halfway through. "Hang on, isn't this the place humans do their religious thing in - Oh!" He _bounces_. "Amy, this is where you got married, yes?"

"Shh," the Dreamer puts in.

The Doctor closes his mouth, suddenly anxious. "Sorry," he stage-whispers, carefully. "Go on."

The priest keeps talking; the Doctor watches him with an childlike happy kind of interest, very attentive, very diligent, and with clearly no idea what's going on. The Dreamer - Arkytior is still grinning, Rose's wide shy tongue-between-her-teeth smile. Amy stands with her hands on her hips and supervises; Rory sort of hovers.

"Do you swear to be faithful through good times and bad, in sickness and in health, till death do you part?"

"I do," Arkytior supplies.

The Doctor turns back, startedly. "Aren't we supposed to be quiet?" he whispers furtively.

This time it's Amy who shushes him.

"Do you swear to be faithful through good times and bad, in sickness and in health, till death do you part?" the man repeats, this time directed quite clearly at the Doctor.

The Doctor snaps to attention diligently. "I do," he announces proudly. And then he stops - "Well, I'd think past that, really - we've already both died a couple times and we seem to be doing alright - "

"As long as you both shall live?" the pastor supplies cheerfully, not missing a beat.

The Doctor considers that, and then nods decisively.

"Then you may kiss the bride."

"Why would I ever kiss Amy," the Doctor starts, confused, and then Arkytior sighs and pulls him down by the lapels of his coat (he makes a muffled surprised noise) and kisses him.

(It's more than a kiss - it's more than a kiss could ever be. Their lips touch and she flows throw them, minds meeting in the middle, melting into each other like sunlight through glass, like darkness shot with gold, and there they are together - always will be - can never be separated. The bond they already had, the scorched marks the Bad Wolf left on the walls of their minds - blown away like dust, because they don't need it. Because she builds them a _real_ connection from the bottom up, careful, taking her time - delicate. The TARDIS hums slow incomprehensible nonlinear joy in the background. The light-green buzz of his surprise turns into a golden realization turns into a deep blue endless happiness tinged with silver - an ocean they never have to leave, sunlight in the water, the darkness in his eyes the (last of his kind) finally evaporating in the gold - )

(The Doctor, and the Dreamer - Theta Sigma and Arkytior - in the TARDIS. The way things should be. Forever.)

"Right," says a familiar Scottish voice, "now you move your box, and then you go dance. You too, Rory, come on. And somebody find River and Jack, Jack owes me a dance."

"Amy," Rory interjects, vaguely indignant.

"It's my wedding!"

"Our wedding," Rory protests weakly.

" _My_ wedding." And then they're off, into the forever.

THE END

(Okay. That's not true. One more thing. Straight from the Dreamer.)

(After eleven regenerations' worth of practice, Theta is still just as terrible at dancing.)


End file.
